An Odyssey to Us
by ghost writer 77
Summary: An odyssey to the place where they belonged. To 'us'. To them. To love. But love is a journey, not a destination... Buckle up, it's gonna get bumpy. *Chapter 13 up*
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yeah, yeah I know. I have a gazillion stories to finish (okay maybe not), but this just kinda popped into my head. I love, love, love angsty stories where our fave duo seem to miss each other. So I thought I wanna give it a shot - hence this. I kinda work on bouts of inspiration and this really doesn't have a plot other than your usual angsty drama. **

**Disclaimer - I don't own Castle, but I do wish Nathan Fillion could be mine. #Iaminlovewiththatman (true story)**

**Note: this contains mild spoilers for 3.22. Obviously my version is completely AU.**

**(Updated version - spotted a few errors)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Shut your eyes<strong>

She's been awake for about fifteen minutes (he's been up for maybe twenty). She's been chewing her lip and mentally flogging herself for about thirteen minutes of that time. The other two minutes were spent in blissful, but very, _very_ brief recollection which sends chills along her spine.

_'What the hell have I done?'_

She shuts her eyes and sighs heavily, turning to lie on her back.

_'This cannot be happening! This CANNOT be happening!'_

She clenches her jaw, brings a hand to her forehead and grimaces. And feels like screaming at the top of her lungs.

_'I slept with Castle. I slept with Richard freaking Castle! While Josh waits at home. Great, Kate, just… perfect.'_

Her eyes snaps open, fixing an absent gaze onto the white ceiling of the ritzy hotel room, barely noticing the intricate patterns of the cornish.

_'Shit. Shit. Shit.'_

With that thought she sits up (praying Rick doesn't walk back in), clutching the white sheet to her naked chest while frantically searching for her discarded clothing lost in their frenzied and passionate moment of abandonment.

A moment that meant very different things for the two people who formed part of it.

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She (fully dressed by now) finds him in the living room area of the suite... wearing only the pair of silk, navy boxers that not-too-long-ago was lying in a pile on the floor next to his bed. He has bed-hair (incredibly adorable bed-hair), is bare chested and is currently trying to charm her pants off (again) with that ridiculously heart-melting little smile he only reserves for her. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Damn that fine man.

Her eyes shift from their appreciative appraisal to the table filled with breakfast - coffee (thank the lord), delicious baked goods, scrambled eggs (well isn't that domestic?), bacon, toast... wait, is that _flowers_? In addition to being an incredible (_in-cre-di-ble)_ lover, ruggedly handsome and ridiculously charming - he got her flowers _with_ breakfast.

Sonofabitch...

She sighs and briefly closes her eyes. '_Shit. Not good,' _she thinks as she turns her gaze back to him; focusing on his cobalt eyes. Just his eyes - they're safer she hopes.

Turns out they're not. His eyes are her downfall, always have been and she's sure always will be.

He's looking at her not like a man who saw her naked a few minutes before - lustful and smug because of it. (She had expected that actually; it would have made it easier). He's looking at her with a certain reverence, like a man who's whole world revolved around her - his earth orbiting her sun. It scares her; it's too much. _He's_ too much. _They're_ too much. _Everything _(including Royce's death and Josh's suggestion that they move in together) is too much to handle right now. She only has one option, solution: run, close up shop and run.

He's entrusting her with this silent confession of love because he's convinced that they're ready for it. Ready to dive in. Ready to make 'always' a part of everything.

Alas, he's too naïve and she too scared. They're not yet aligned. Ying is not yet in harmony with yang.

The morning-after-awkwardness hangs in the air like the thick fog of Beijing's pollution. It's oppressive and stiffling. Even more so when he not-so-subtly clears his throat.

"Hey," he greets quietly, shifting his weight (nervously?). He attempts to smile again, his eyes hopeful, adoring and everything she doesn't dare to show. She doesn't want him looking at her like that. She doesn't want him hoping. She doesn't want him expecting. She doesn't want him loving her.

Kate finds the red cushion on the couch extremely fascinating. "Hey," she returns equally quietly.

"Uh, I got breakfast. I thought... you know." He shrugs, smiles sheepishly (or nervously) and shifts again. Another stretch of uncomfortable silence. This time she clears her throat not-so-subtly.

"Uh thanks Castle-" The use of his last name stings. Badly. He straightens his posture on reflex. "-but I think I'm gonna go take a shower. I want to get cracking on the case. We have a long day ahead of us," she replies, offering him a small smile. He's not satisfied by it. She watches him for a moment, noticing a shift in his demeanor and expression. Everything is duller, more sober. You'd miss it if you didn't know him; didn't study his reactions like he studied yours. This isn't Castle the Excited Kid At Christmas of a few moments before - expectant and hopeful. This is Castle the Guy Who Takes It On The Chin - disillusioned and mature. His jaw clenches slightly and he gives her a singular nod.

"Sure." He doesn't bother to mask his disappointment. And she pretends not notice it as she makes her way to her room, her head hung and her eyes focused on the steps she takes. He follows her with his eyes the whole way, still hoping. Hoping that she didn't regret it. Hoping that she felt what he felt. Hoping (_pleading_ by now) that she doesn't do this to him (_again_); crush him like only Kate Beckett can. He's not sure how much longer he will be able to take it. And now after he knows what she tastes like and how she feels around him, he's certain that he wouldn't be able to let her go.

Not this time.

But he knew from the moment he locked eyes with her this morning that they were not on the same page. He was sure (_so_ sure), she was scared. He was open, she was closed. He was ready, she was running. He was single, she wasn't.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face.

She really _was_ a mystery he was never going to solve...

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She closer her door (and locks it), throws her head upward and sighs - convinced that she has ruined everything. She knew exactly from the moment she locked eyes with him this morning that they were not on the same page. Hell, she knew _that_ last night when he moved inside of her.

She was screwing him, trying to forget while he was making love to her, trying to comfort.

She was using him while he was worshipping her.

She was hurting him while he was healing her.

The worst of all?

Kate Beckett wasn't willing to exchange her heart for Rick Castle's.

The heart - _his_ heart - she was already holding hostage.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, I know it's short, but I think it's best to stop the first chapter here. **

**What do ya think? I'm trying different things, so let me know if you liked it or not.**

**All mistakes are mine. I apologize to the English language for them.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay so the first chapter didn't get a lot of feedback or hits. I kinda figured it was because I posted it at a crappy time and on the Monday when the finale aired. Anyway, so here's the second chapter; so hopefully there's more interest in this because I really want to give this story a shot, but if no one reads it, well then it's kinda pointless, isn't it.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer - Castle is not mine. I wish.**

**(Updated version - spotted a few mistakes)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 – You and I were never meant to be<strong>

_"It was a mistake."_

The words burned through him. Scorched him. Charred him. Blackened his soul. It was all-consuming and overwhelming, threatening to turn him to ash. To mutilate him. To destroy him. He was a sacrificial lamb on her alter. She a ruthless, demanding goddess.

His heart an unexpected casualty in their collision.

_"It was a mistake. I'm sorry." _

Yeah, she basically ripped him to pieces with that guilt-ridden, spoken-in-a-sigh-admission. It had been a week since L.A., since their night together. He had kept quiet about it for her sake. He tried to ignore the massive elephant in the room for her sake. He had tried to not to dream about her... for both their sakes. But after (unintentionally) hearing her set up a casual lunch date with her doctor boyfriend, something shot through him - a combination of rage, jealousy, confusion and a whole lot of pain. He had confronted her in the break room as calmly as he could. She had been angry (no livid) and subsequently pulled him into one of the more private conference rooms. After a few minutes of arguing about the inappropriateness of the conversation at her workplace, she finally dropped her head, briefly closed her eyes and uttered those dreaded words in a whisper.

It sliced through him, paralysed him, crushed him.

She was running from the truth, he knew that. The worst of it all? His acquiescence. His acceptance of her blatant lie. Not only a lie to him, to everyone else, but to herself. She was lying to herself. She was fighting _them_. He was tired of fighting _them_. He wanted to be an _'us'_. Unfortunately, however, cowardice had won on the day. He quietly and numbly nodded his head, stored away his confession of undying love into the deepest, darkest corner of his heart and masked the agony he was feeling.

"Yeah, I understand. I get it." He had heard himself say.

Well, that was just it - he didn't understand and he didn't get it.

And he didn't want to.

He loved her.

_"It was a mistake. I'm sorry... It won't happen again."_

Thing is, he wanted it to happen again. He wanted it to happen for the rest of his life. He wanted _her_. All of her. The good and the bad; the light and the dark; the beauty and the pain. For better or worse.

He wanted _them_. Writer and Detective; Castle and Beckett; Rick and Kate. Friends, partners, lovers.

He wanted it _all_.

[] [] []

He loves her.

And that's why he's here, standing in front of her door – flowers in hand and heart on his sleeve. He wants her to say that she feels it too, he wants her to admit that they could be more, he wants her to deny her denial.

But he also knows that if she rejects him _again_, that it might be the last straw.

That it might break him.

That it might break _them_.

"Castle!" she answers surprised; her brow furrowing in confusion. They've seen each other a few hours ago after closing a case. "What- what are you doing here?" She asks, anxiously running a hand through her hair. She's out of her work attire and in yoga pants, a worn-out NYPD hoodie and barefoot. Domestic, comfortable and distinctly _Kate_. She's small, he notices absent-mindedly. He wants to wrap his arms around her slight frame and pull her to him. He wants to hold her. Comfort her. _Love_ her.

But he sees her frowning face and suddenly feels stupid for buying her flowers. They're not dating. They're not a couple. They're... what the hell were they? Well, that's what he was there to establish, to clarify.

Hopefully to change.

He clears his throat and speaks. "Can I come in?"

She considers him for a moment, hanging on the door while chewing on her lower lip. It takes all of his restraint not to grab and kiss her senseless once she does that. She was much too adorable and alluring when she did that. Damn it!

She sighs and let him in. "What do you want, Castle?" She asks, folding her arms protectively across her chest. He almost answers 'you', but thinks better of it.

He purses his lips and swallows. "We need to talk, Kate." His tone is low and serious and lacking all of its familiar joviality.

She lets out a breath and moves into the kitchen. "We've already talked." Her tone is condescending and dismissive.

It pisses him off.

"No, _you_ talked. I listened." He pauses for a moment. "I haven't said my piece yet." He puts the unacknowledged flowers on the kitchen counter top.

She tries to ignore the flowers which, by the way, are her favourite. Why does he have to be such a sweet man? She shrugs casually. "What's there left to say?" Her tone is weary. She tries to keep her face blank, but her stomach is in knots. Her heart is slamming against her chest.

Her denial and faux-indifference pisses him off further.

"Damn it, Kate! Don't talk to me like this isn't a big deal." His tone is harsh and it surprises her for a moment. "Don't tell me it didn't mean anything." His voice doesn't waver, but his cobalt blues are pleading with her.

She averts his eyes and licks her lips, not ready to admit that it did in fact mean something. She's content in her denial. Safe in the conviction that it was a huge mistake. And she's sticking to the script, even though her heart wants to deviate from that. "It was a mistake, Castle."

The use of his last name and her weary denial enrages him. It cuts through him; it's bound to leave another scar.

He sparks into action, words tumbling hotly out of his mouth. "No. You know what? It wasn't a mistake." _Here goes nothing. _"We weren't a mistake. We're _not_-"

"It was just sex, okay?" She cuts him off sharply. "It was a lapse in judgement on my part. I was vulnerable, you were there. Telling me that I was beautiful, telling me what I needed to hear. You were being the charming Richard Castle... and I didn't resist. I allowed you to sweep me off my feet."

A myriad of emotions dances across his features, finally settling on hurt and anger. His straightens his posture and clenches his jaw. His eyes smoldering with emotion.

He takes a step forward and she takes a step back. "Oh no, no, no - you're not putting this all on me." His voice is low and heated. "May I remind you, _Detective_, that you were a very willing participant."

She blows out a slow breath and tilts her head upward. She returns her gaze to him. He is tense, she notices. She doesn't like him tense. "Yeah, I know. And I regret it." She thinks it's the truth, tries to convince herself that what she felt towards the (now defeated) man in front of her could be buried... _again_.

He slowly shakes his head and takes another step towards her; there are only about four paces between them. "Stop fighting it. Please." His expression his pleading, his eyes are softer (and distinctly sadder) in their perusal of her features, his voice is a quiet rumble. He takes another step towards her, she backs up to the counter.

"Stop fighting what, Castle?" She knows exactly what he's referring to, but she's not about to lose control again. She can't afford to lose control with him.

"Us, Kate." His voice caresses her name and she resists a shiver because of it. Another step. Only two very close paces left between them.

She swallows, willing her voice not to break due to his ever-increasing proximity. "There is no _us_, Rick."

He closes the distance between their bodies, lifts his hand and tentatively cups her cheek. "There could be." She closes her eyes at his touch and tries not to lean into it. "Give me chance," he whispers, his breath swirling in her hair. This time she does shiver. "I want to make you happy."

"No, I- I can't." Her voice is unsteady as he places a kiss in her hair.

"Why not?" He murmurs before planting a feathery kiss on her cheekbone.

"You know why. It just-"

"I love you." His confession is sudden and impulsive and shocks them both. Her eyes snap to his, wide and filled with fear. The moment his eyes meet hers he knows the spell has been broken; that he has made a mistake in unloading that unto her. She steps around and away from him, a hand in her hair and emotions tumultous within her.

"Kate-" He tries to amend, to explain, to express it again.

She turns around, sighs and holds up a hand. "No. Please just don't."

He doesn't care; he's diving in, showing his hand. "I'm in love with you. Kate, I-"

"I'm with Josh."

His brow furrows. His jaw set in gritty determination. "You don't love him."

She clenches her jaw. Time to bring out the big guns. "He asked me to move in with him and I've said yes." It feels like a blow to his gut. "And I _do_ love him, Rick." A shot to his heart. "We-" She gestures between them. "-were never meant to be."

He goes numb as he stares at her for what feels like an eternity. She breaks the gaze and something snaps within him. He feels a coldness, a hardness, a brokenness seep into his soul.

Worldlessly he turns around, swallowing past the lump in his throat, and walks out the door in a daze. He doesn't bother to look back. Doesn't bother to argue that point of contention. Doesn't bother to fight against the lie.

_"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."_

Bullshit.

Richard Castle begs to differ.

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><p><strong>AN: Ah the angst! Yes, Kate is a stupid, stupid woman, but she's in denial. Anyway, don't worry this is a journey with a destination... obviously that destination being Caskett. But I love angst so yeah, expect more of that.**

**Please review and tell me what you think.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yeah, I know it's really angsty and the last chapter was particularly hard to swallow, but I did warn you. And don't worry, they will end up together - hence the title of this story. Thank for everyone who reviewd, story alerted and story favoured. It inspires me immensely.**

**This chapter tries to explore why Kate is being so unbelievably stupid and stubborn and why she's pushed Castle away. I think it's important to really investigate that. It's a little short, I'm sorry. I kinda just sat down and wrote and came up with this. I hope it's decent.**

**Disclaimer: still not mine.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 – Requiem for a Broken Heart<strong>

Identity: the essential self; the set of characteristics that somebody recognizes as belonging uniquely to himself or herself and constituting his or her individual personality for life.

She was-

Predominantly _Detective_.

Mostly _Beckett_.

Occasionally _Kate_.

And rarely _Katie_.

Guarded, complex, puzzling. A mystery no one was going to solve any time soon. A wounded warrior with a fortress heart. A heart that was not to be open and inviting with, but rather a sanctuary and a place to retreat to. Something to protect. To handle with upmost care.

She had learned that the hard way. She was carefree when she was young. Open, unprotected and wholly vulnerable because of it.

Then her mother died.

And their world came crashing down. Her life spun out of control. She was no longer at ease with her identity as the loving daughter, protected by the safety of her home; the untroubled girl who had the world at her feet; Katie who was light and free and happy.

_Katie_ was unprepared for the tragedy. _Katie_ was unprepared for the anguish. _Katie_ was unprepared for the rabbit hole. Her young, open, carefree heart broke and tore and shattered never to be fully repaired again. The scars lingered, a reminder of the price you paid for being open and carefree with a heart. A reminder of what being unprepared meant. A reminder of what happened when someone you loved left.

She was left twisted, molded and fractured into Detective Kate Beckett.

And Detective Kate Beckett was prepared and armed against heartbreak (or so she thought). She had walls of self-preservation, of safety, of assurance around her fragile, healing heart. Walls that were rarely tampered with. Rarely penetrated. Rarely broken down.

Until _he_ came along.

He had been able to pry away the jealous hold she had on her heart. It left her exposed. It left her vulnerable. It left her utterly terrified.

And now... alone.

It was rather funny in some sick, ironic way - she pushed him away because she was afraid that he would leave her. Well, Katie, mission accomplished: he's gone.

She was a coward.

No, not a coward when it came to being a brave cop. Not when it came to chasing armed suspects (in six inch heels), facing twisted killers head on or even getting shot at. No, she was a coward when it came to being happy. To _truly_ being happy. Because true, honest-to-God, bursting-at-the-seams happiness always seems to come at a price, always seems to entail risk. _'It doesn't last'_ her cynical mind has pointed out to her on multiple occasions. There was no happily ever after. There was no fate. There was no true love.

She was content with Josh. He was solid and safe and not the guy who threw the apple cart. And he loved her. It was enough for her, wasn't it? She would be satisfied with that, wouldn't she? She could do 'until death do us part' with him, couldn't she? He came back for her, _to_ her after all.

_'But _he_ stayed for you,'_ that irritating, nagging little voice of truth in the back of her mind quietly pointed out. She silenced it. Again. For the millionth time.

She swallowed thickly, pursed her lips and sighed.

Was Rick Castle worth the risk? Was he worth giving up her heart for? Was he worth being vulnerable for?

_I love you._

The three little words refused to let go of her mind (and heart); they clung to her desperately, refusing to be shaken off, to be brushed aside.

They meant something. They were significant. They were not said lightly.

She knew that. She saw it in his eyes. It wasn't just sex. She knew that. They both knew that. She could have given in to his declaration because she _did_ feel something. She didn't deny it tonight. She just left out to mention how entirely, beautifully, painfully her heart constricted with his nearness, how breathless he left her, how much she lost herself in him. It was dangerous how much she felt, how much she cared, how much she... _loved_?

_I love you._

The fear, however, remained. The fear of loss. Always in the back of her mind, lurking in the depths of her heart like a ghost or demon or a combination of both. If she was to give in, how long before he (also) abandoned her? How long before he fell out of love with her? How long before he broke _her_ heart?

_I love you._

Those three, simply spoken words were carved into her mind (and heart) by now. They could not be unsaid. And her reaction to them could not be reversed. It echoed throughout her being. Her own words mocked her. She glanced at the still-unacknowledged flowers on the kitchen counter, tilted her head upwards and let out a slow, shaky breath. Unwelcome tears were burning her eyes as the realisation set in just what she had done. She had broken his heart in an attempt to protect herself. However, in the process her heart had also stopped beating correctly. It lost its rhythm. It ruptured.

_We were never meant to be._

She was a fool.

A fool who could not undo what has been done. Who could not turn back the clock of traitorous time.

_We were never meant to be._

Kate the Fool, Kate the Coward and Kate the Woman Who Broke Her Own Heart.

_We were never meant to be._

"Lanie? It's me... No, I- I'm not." She took a unsteady breath, her vision swimming. "Can you come over?"

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><p><strong>AN: I will explore Rick's reaction to the events in the next chapter and maybe even include Kate and Lanie's conversation in that one. I didn't want to do that in this chapter. This was a chapter about Kate and it felt right to end it here.**

**Please review and tell me what you think. Do you think my exploration of Kate's insecurities is an accurate reflection of the character? I would really like to get some feedback on that.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Yes, more angst. Deal with it. This time, I'm exploring Rick's post-the-trauma-of-chapter-2-feelings.**

**Disclaimer: Castle is not mine, but the suffocating level of angst is.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 – Bitter Boy<strong>

Richard Castle does not scream or throw things (well, mostly he doesn't) or breaks down when he's hurting.

He grows quiet. He shuts off. He brews. He licks his wounds. He tries to stop feeling. And right now, he's numb.

Everything is meaningless.

Everything is dull.

Everything is lifeless.

His usually attentive writer's mind does not appreciate the beauty in the ordinary, does not soak up the details of life, does not see the potential stories of the people around him.

He doesn't care anymore. He's shrugging indifferently at life.

He feels like he's in the twilight zone, that he dreamt her rejection of a few hours before.

_We were never meant to be._

He closes his eyes and swallows thickly. The words cut through him. Did she really mean that? Did she really feel nothing, absolutely nothing? Did she really just do that to them?

He opens his eyes and clenches his jaw. Yes... yes, she did. He was convinced of that; he was not going to hope any longer. It was because of his stupid hope and stupid optimism that he was drowning right now. Wallowing in what could have been. Struggling against the flames of despair.

He turns his attention back to the screen in front of him.

The blinking cursor is mocking him. Haunting him. Reminding him of... _her_.

He stares at the blank page. The _dedication_ page of the third (and now last) Nikki Heat novel (he would call Gina tomorrow). He could write and thank the cruel bitch for ripping him to pieces. For making it impossible to trust anyone again. For crushing his heart. For shattering _them_.

But he doesn't. He doesn't even mention her. He can't bear to.

He sighs, rubs a hand roughly over his face and quickly shuts his laptop. He's tired of writing. Tired of Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook. Tired of _her_.

Right now, he's only interested in one thing: to clean out his liquor cabinet and get horrendously drunk. Yeah, that may be cliché and oh-so-tortured writer, but it will do. He just needs to forget, just for a few hours. He actually craves the nausea and the blinding heahache - maybe _that _will keep his godforsaken mind off of her!

But he knows that it would not be enough.

_'I should have stopped that kiss,'_ he thinks ruefully about the point of ignition that had started this whole mess as he pulls out his finest bottle of whiskey.

However, his memory reminds him, it was a kiss that _she_ initiated. A kiss that _she_ had deepened. A kiss where _she_ had ended up on top of him on that godforsaken couch in that godforsaken hotel room. After that, there was no stopping, there was no turning back. When they stumbled into his bedroom, they had reached a point of no return. When he lowered her unto the bed, they had reached a point of no return. When she moaned in pleasure under his touch, they had crossed that point of no return.

He can't go back now or ever. Even if she wanted to. He refuses to.

_We were never meant to be._

He can't regret moving inside of her, of worshipping her with his body, of loving her with his soul.

He can't regret any of it.

And _that _infuriates him. Why should he regret it? Why should they regret it? Why was it a 'mistake'? They fit, they worked, they were sides of the same coin. Ying and Yang. Castle and Beckett. Rick and Kate.

_We were never meant to be._

Bullshit! His mind screams, anger seeping into his being. How can she be that blind? Damn it! Everything shouted at her that they _were_ meant to be. The Universe has given them ample signs - the freezer, the bomb, the countless times they've had near-death experiences. What more does she need as evidence? What else should he do to try and convice her?

_I love you._

He's never said those words lightly and when he did say them, he meant them. He did tonight. He's never meant them more than tonight. He was never as sure of what he felt than tonight. He needed to prove to her that he wanted more. That he wanted everything. He didn't care that she was closed off and difficult to get to know. He didn't care about the shadows that lurked inside of her. He didn't care about how scared she was. It wouldn't matter to him.

He loves her.

_We were never meant to be. _

Thinking about her reaction to his words, however, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that has nothing to do with the whiskey burning down his throat. He had always thought, being a romantic, that people had a certain reverence for those three words when spoken in earnest. That conviction was turned on its head tonight, though.

She brushed it off.

She pushed it aside.

She threw it back in his face.

It was done with a level of callousness that shocked him. He didn't like that Kate. Cold, Callous Kate. He _really_ didn't like her.

But even the Cold, Callous Kate he loved.

He loved all of her.

_I love you._

His own words taunted him. Tortured him. Reminded him of his foolishness. Of her cowardice. And it angers him. Pisses him off. Infuriates him to the point of screaming at the top of his lungs. What else is he suppose-

_No_.

He violently throws the last lick of his third glass of whiskey down his throat, winces and forcefully stands up.

No. No. _No_.

He's done. She doesn't want him. She doesn't feel anything. She _used_ him. The sudden realisation sends a bolt of disbelief and a rush of rage through him. Before he knows it, a glass lies shattered into hundreds of pieces on the floor at the other end of the room. He's breathing hard and his eyes are stinging, burning, swimming.

He's hurting. _Badly_. And she's probably off screwing Dr. Motorcycle Boy right now. Jealousy, fury, anguish and a good doze of despair rip through him and before he knows it, one of his glass cabinets is shattered, hundreds of pieces of glass lie on the ground. A few small shards, however, are stuck in the flesh of his knuckles. His head is throbbing, his hand is pounding and his heart is aching painfully. Blood trickles down his hand in a steady stream, staining everything it lands on.

He wraps his bloody hand in a dish towel while listening to the ringing at the other end of the line with the phone lodged in between his ear and neck.

He's done. He's done chasing her. He's walking away, cutting his losses. He might be maimed, he might be scarred, but he's determined to survive.

Even if surviving meant getting away from _her_.

"Paula? It's me..." He lets out a laboured sigh. "Yeah, sorry I know it's late, but it's important... Can you come over tomorrow as early as possible?... I want to discuss some tour dates."

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><p><strong>AN: Okay, so this chapter is quite similar to the last one as you probably could deduce. I liked writing this, exploring Rick's feelings. **

**Please review and tell me what you think.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review and add this story to your alerts and/or favourites. I really appreciate it. **

**This chapter includes a little bit of Lanie and Martha.**

**Disclaimer: not mine. I'm just borrowing them for fun.**

**(Updated version - spotted a few errors)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 - You could be happy<strong>

"I brought Vodka. Lots and lots of Vodka." The petite ME greeted when an unusually disheveled Kate opened the door. Lanie quirked an eyebrow as she quietly perused her friend. "Damn girl, if I knew you were gonna look like _this_, I would have brought Tequila as well." Her tone was light, but the words were laced with concern.

The tall detective only returned a small smile and gestured for her friend to step inside. "Thanks for coming, Lanie."

The two women silently made their way to the kitchen. Kate silently retrieved two glasses and silently filled the two glasses, occasionally wiping at her red-rimmed eyes. Lanie, on the other hand, was busy scrutinizing the dark-haired woman closely.

She looked positively dreadful – sloppy ponytail, yoga pants, oversized NYPD hoodie, red eyes, pale face. This wasn't Kate Beckett.

Something was terribly wrong.

Once she had a glass in her hand, Lanie was ready to start talking. "Alright, spill. What's got you asking me to come over at ten on a Friday evening?"

Kate pursed her lips, fixed a blank stare on a spot on her kitchen counter. She absently made a mental note to clean her oven the next day. Finally, her eyes lifted to the meet her friend's. "I've messed up, Lanie. _Badly_." Her voice was soft and carried a vulnerable tremor.

Lanie watched her carefully. "How so? Did something happen with Josh? Did you break up?" She asked, taking a sip of her drink. She had the nagging feeling, however, this had nothing to do with the dashing doctor.

Kate's mouth quirked up sardonically, but slowly shook her head. "No. It's Castle."

"Oh..." Her brow furrowed. Why did she feel her inner alarm bells go off? "What happened, Kate?"

Kate slowly let out a breath, briefly closed her eyes before facing her friend again. "I slept with Rick."

[][][]

Martha Rodgers knew her son. Sometimes she knew him better than he knew himself. Hell, she knew even before he did that he was in love with a certain dark-haired detective. She knew when something was brewing. Knew when danger was on the horizon. And she knew from the moment he had gotten the idea in his head to follow Kate Beckett across the country, that trouble was on its way like a gathering storm. Dark and ominous. She just... _knew_.

Call it a mother's intiution.

She felt for her son: he was hopelessly in love with a woman who was not ready to take that leap with him. A woman who was bound by fear. A woman who was selfish with her own heart. Unfortunately, Richard was not the most tactful person. He was impulsive and passionate and all-consuming. He wanted everything and gave everything in return. The older woman, however, was not so sure that the younger woman was ready to expose herself so eagerly. No matter what her son offered in return.

She found him in his office... cleaning. She immediately knew that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"Richard, darling," she greeted hesitantly, knowing that this was his coping mechanism, that he was trying to distract himself from something. Or _someone_.

He only turned around and smiled faintly in acknowledgement, before returning to his task of rearranging the books on one of the bookshelves.

"What _are_ you doing?"

"Just..." He shrugged. "Reorganizing." He let out a heavy sigh. Martha carefully moved closer to her son. He seemed like a caged animal ready to take off any minute if startled. However, when Martha spotted the bloody bandage around his hand she gasped and quickly grabbed hold of his wrist.

"What happened to you?"

"It's... nothing... The glass cabinet got in the way of my fist." He tried to smile, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings. He was miserable and in pain.

Light blue eyes snapped up to meet his cobalt pair in surprise. She didn't say anything. She knew. Wordlessly, she led him to the couch of his office and untied the make-shift bandage he had put on his hand an hour before. Martha Rodgers may be many things, but she was a mother first and foremost. She had been responsible for taking care of him. She had been responsible for tending to his wounds. She had been responsible for protecting him.

But she couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't shield him from the utter devastation that was heartbreak.

They had been silent for a few minutes while she removed the bandages. The silence was overwhelming. Her mind was focused on her son. His mind was focused on _her_.

"She doesn't love me." His voice was quiet, ragged, hopeless. The usual musical tone of his voice was now flat, monotone and... inanimate. He was staring blankly at something on the wall.

Her heart broke, shattered at his words. Her suspicions had been right. She briefly closed her eyes, pain flooding her as it must have her son. _'Flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone.'_

For a moment, Martha Rodgers felt blinding hatred course through her. For a moment she hated the woman who was doing this to her son. She hated the woman who couldn't see what was right in front of her. She hated the woman who had ripped Richard Castle to pieces.

She gently pulled him in for a warm, comforting embrace. "Oh Richard."

Yes, for a moment Martha Rodgers truly hated the love of her son's life.

Kate Beckett wasn't only breaking his heart, but a mother's heart as well.

[][][]

"You did _what_ now?" The ME exclaimed. She was shocked, utterly shocked. This was the last thing that she had expected to hear from her best friend.

Lanie would be grinning impishly if she hadn't noticed Kate's crestfallen expression. She would have said 'about time!' if Kate hadn't blinked away tears. She would have danced around if Kate hadn't lowered her head and let out a shaky breath.

So, instead of doing all of the above-mentioned, Lanie moved around the kitchen island and wrapped an arm around the other woman. "Kate, honey, when-"

"In L. A. I slept with him when we were in L. A. On Royce's case.," Kate said, stepping away from her friend.

"Oh." _Oh_. The strange behaviour of the two after L. A. now made sense; there had been a level of tension between them that Lanie (and the boys) just couldn't quite pin down. Now she knew why. "Okay, so judging by your reaction, the sex must have been really bad. Which is kinda hard to imagine with Writer Boy," she said in an effort to lighten the mood. Kate let out a watery laugh and shook her head.

"If only it was bad."

_If only. _

The petite ME lifted an eyebrow. "Ah, so how good _was_ it, Detective?"

Kate's mouth quirked up briefly, her fingers fiddling with the stem of her glass and her eyes absent-mindedly fixed on a spot on the wall. "It was... great. Perfect. Beautiful," she responded softly. She paused for a moment. "It was the best ever." The utter sadness and vulnerability with which the words were said, stopped Lanie from making a comment.

Something else happened. This wasn't just about L. A. Something must have happened recently. The realisation hit her - _tonight_.

"Kate, what happened tonight?"

The detective looked at her friend, pursed her lips and tilted her head upwards. "I ruined everything." She fixed her eyes on the white ceiling, blew out a breath and waited a few moments to gather her thoughts. "You know, I kept telling myself when we got back that it was a mistake. And it was." She turned to look at the other woman. "I'm _not _a cheater, Lanie and Josh doesn't deserve this..."

Lanie had to bite her tongue not to point out that being in love with another man is already a form of cheating. It was emotional adultery. And Kate Beckett was sure as hell guilty of that. But rather than point that out, she let the detective continue.

"Castle didn't say anything for a week and I sure as hell wasn't going to bring it up, so I did what I did best and ignored it. Buried it. Convinced myself that it didn't mean anything. A few days ago, Castle confronted me about it and we kinda got into it-"

"Wait, that wouldn't happen to be Tuesday, would it?"

Kate nodded her head.

"Mmhmm, I knew something was off between the two of you. Okay, so you got into it?"

"Yeah. I told him that it was a mistake and that I was sorry."

Lanie let out a sigh. She resisted the urge to shake her head in disapproval. "What did Castle say?"

Kate sighed and rubbed her forehead. "He said that he understood. But he was hurt. I could see that it hurt him."

There were a few moments of silence. "And tonight? Something must have happened, right?"

Kate smiled bitterly, feeling tears starting to sting her eyes. "He came by... with flowers." She gestured to the flowers on the kitchen counter. She waited for a moment, willing away the emotion. Willling away the nagging regret. Willing away the mistakes that she had made. "Lanie, he told me that he wanted us... That he loved me." Kate turned to look at her friend who stared at her with two raised eyebrows.

Everyone knew Castle loved her, it was not a surprise.

"I told him that we couldn't. That I was with Josh."

Lanie hesitated for a moment. "Does Josh know?"

Kate's eyes snapped to hers. "No."

"You gonna tell him?"

"I don't know," Kate responded quietly.

"What do you mean you don't know? You planning on _staying_ with the man?" This was ridiculous. "Girl, you and Castle-"

"Lanie, there is _no_ Castle and me... There never will be."

That was it - time to smack some sense into the woman.

"And why the hell not? Kate, that man loves you. He _loves_ you. It's plain for everyone to see." Kate was shaking her head. "And you love him too." At that, she locked eyes with her friend.

"I can't risk it."

"Bullshit, Kate. He'll be good for you. You two would be great together... You could be happy."

Silence descended for a moment with Kate pinching the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. She was starting to develop a headache. Finally she looked at her friend again. "Lanie, I don't want to risk our friendship, our partnership on something that might end up in flames... I just can't trust him with my heart. You know what happened the last time I tried to-"

The ME was shaking her head vehemently, starting to feel anger bubbling up inside of her. Her friend could be so damn stupid sometimes!

"Let me tell you something about that man that you seemingly don't get." Kate was taken aback with the sharpness of her friend's tone. "He would turn the world upside down for you. He would do anything you ask of him." She paused for a moment. "Girl, I love you, I really do. And I'm your side all the way, you know that... But _this_ time, I'm on his. All. The. Way."

Kate's brow furrowed in surprise. "Lanie-"

"Na-uh, Kate. He's my friend too. And you're messing with him. You're stringing him along. He's madly in love with you. Hell, he's been in love with you for ages and purely out of respect for your relationship and out of concern for _your_ happiness, he's tried to keep his distance. Oh, don't tell me you didn't know about how he feels. How long has it been since he's seen any one, mmm? How long has it been since he even just went out on a date?

She paused for a moment, her expression softening.

"He's been waiting for you to give him a chance, Kate... You want my opinion? If you don't feel the same way or if you're unwilling to take the risk - cut him loose. Let him go. To keep doing this to a man who is willing to do anything, _anything_ for you, is just cruel."

Tears were blurring her vision. "Lanie, he's my partner. I don't want to lose him."

Lanie cocked her head slightly and gently conveyed the harsh reality. "Honey, you might have already."

Kate went numb as the realisation hit her - she may have lost him. She may have just lost her best friend, partner, one and-

And this time it might be for good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, I'm not entirely happy with this. It just feels a little... forced. I don't know. *Shrugs* I brought in the part with Martha just to create a break in Lanie and Kate's conversation and show what has happening with Castle at the same time. There will be more of Alexis and Martha's reactions later on.**

**Please review and tell me what you think. I could really use your opinions on this one. Especially with regards to Lanie - was she authentic and in character?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello fellow fanfic fans! Thank so much for the generous feedback, I truly appreciate it. Once again, this is angsty drama - don't say I didn't warn you. And, yeah, you're probably going to hate me a little bit after this, especially for the last part. But, don't fret, all's well that ends well.**

****Yes, I am a sadist...****

**Enjoy (or at least try to)**

**(Updated version - spotted a few small mistakes)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 – Losing my religion<strong>

Shock.

Silence.

Those are not two words that Paula usually associated herself with. She was cunning, streetwise and not easily ruffled. And well, she was definitely not the quiet-mouse-type.

(She was more the barking-bitch-type)

But when your biggest client drops a bombshell like he just did, you can do very little than just stare at the (mad)man in shock.

After a full minute of being dumbstruck, she finally clears her throat and finds her voice. "Uh... Ricky, I- I don't think this is such a good idea-"

"Just set it up, Paula," he cuts in, abruptly getting up. He is irritated and hung over.

Oh yeah and a little shattered.

"You and Gina have been nagging me for the last six months to do this and now when I'm telling you I want to do it, you're backing out. What's the damn problem?"

She gives her head a shake, trying to determine whether the man standing in front of her was a hallucination or not. She got up and frowned, her own agitation levels slowly starting to rise. "The problem, Rick, is that you're just _quitting_ the Nikki Heat series. No warning. No nothing. And now you want _me_ to clean up after _you_."

He drops his head and closes his eyes. He was so tired of this. He just wanted to get away. Get away from the hurt. Get away from _her_.

The sooner, the better.

The longer he stays here, the bigger the likelihood that he'll start hoping again. Start thinking that maybe, just maybe they have a chance. Start fighting for her heart again. Continue to fall even more in love with her.

Well, whether he stays or not, Richard Castle was convinced of one torturous fact: he'll always be in love wit her.

He'll be in love with her when he lets out his last breath. He'll be in love with her when the blue sky rips open. He'll be in love with her when judgment falls. He'll be in love with her for an eternity in heaven or hell.

Never-ending.

_Always_.

He looks up at the petite, dark-haired woman again. "I'm not asking you to do anything of the sort. Just set up the damn tour so I can do it and get it over with... I'm done with Nikki Heat." She is taken aback by the coldness of his tone and hardness of his expression.

This wasn't Rick Castle. This was his ghost. His lost soul. His darkness.

He turns to the window, his back to Paula, and shoves his hands deeply into his pockets.

Pensive. Determined. Disillusioned.

Paula watches him closely. "You still have to talk to Gina?"

He nods without saying anything.

"You know Black Pawn is going to sue your ass off for breach of contract, right?" She pauses for a moment, hoping her next words might snap him out of whatever he's in. "In fact, they may sever all ties with you because of it. You might never get published by them again or anyone for that matter, Rick."

He shrugs. "I don't care." And he doesn't. He doesn't give a flying-

Paula lets out a sigh. _'Well I do, you son of a bitch'_ she wants to say (scream), but bites back her reply instead.

Time to rip off the band-aid. "And what about your detective?" She asks softly. It doesn't take a genius to know that this has something to do with his muse.

He tenses instantly at the mention of _her_. After a moment he turns back to his agent, icy winter residing in his blue gaze.

"I'm done with Nikki Heat and I'm done with her."

His heart, however, was hanging on for dear life.

[][][]

It's 8am on a Saturday. Her _off_ Saturday. Instead of still lying under the covers, letting blissful sleep capture her consciousness, Kate Beckett is dressed and ready for the day. Well, dressed, but maybe not ready for the day.

Not ready for the rest of her life. Especially if it meant that she was going to lose-

She just couldn't sleep anymore. Hell, she'd been awake since 5:37 to be precise with nightmares about the freezer as usual waking her in a cold sweat. It's always the same one.

Only this time, he didn't make-

She doesn't know why, but the swirling black liquid is rather enchanting as it transforms into a hue of rich brown. She briefly closes her eyes and inhales the warm scent.

It was magical.

Although, it really can't compete with the brew he always-

She's back at staring at the liquid while absently stirring it (she's been doing that for the last five minutes); her mind everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Her head is pounding lightly - a remnant of Lanie's Vodka and her own wallowing.

In her heart, though, is a dull ache that can't be ascribed to anything other than her own foolishness and cowardice.

And him walking out her door without looking back.

She sighs and unwillingly glances at the still-unacknowledged flowers on the kitchen counter top. She hasn't moved them. Why, she's not sure.

Should she call him? And if she does, what should she say to him? Her phone lies perilously close to her tapping fingers. She chews on her lower lip and considers it for a moment. She hesitates before picking up her phone and punches in the number.

It takes about five rings before the familiar voice greets her.

"Hey Sexy," the answer comes and she can hear the smile in her dashing doctor's voice.

"Hey." She turns away from the wilting flowers and tries to smile. It doesn't feel right. "So, do you want to do something today?"

"Sure," he answers a little surprised. "Just give me an hour or so. I have something that I have to take care of and then I'll come and pick you up. What did you have in mind, Babe?"

Her brow furrows for a moment. She isn't used to having a day of lounging around. "Uh, I- what about a ride out? We haven't done that in a while." Frankly, she needs the wind in her hair and the stretch of the black road out in front of her.

She needs to get her mind off the mess that she has made. Off him. Off what might lie ahead. Off what she might lose. Off _who_ she might lose.

He needed to cool down and she needed to clear her head.

Josh grins and nods his head. "'Kay, see you in a bit." He pauses for a moment, feeling bold. "Love you."

Kate tenses. "Yeah, I- see you in a bit," she responds awkwardly before ending the call.

She looks at the forgotten flowers again and clenches her jaw. A few brisk strides later the dying bouquet is lying in the darkness amongst other items of rotting trash.

Her heart, however, was hanging for dear life.

[][][]

The thing about Dr. Joshua 'McHottie' Davidson is this – he likes to be prepared. He is one of those irritating 5-year-plan-type of people. But that's half the reason for his success (and hard abs). He prepares, he works with a plan, he fine-tunes things. He's not really a spontaneous type of guy (polar opposite of a certain mystery novelist), but rather relies on assurance, on solidness, on certainty.

And yeah he's certain all right – Katherine Beckett was the woman for him. He'd dated a lot of women and he has been in a few serious relationships, but _she_ had reeled him in.

She was… intriguing and alluring and smart and gorgeous and, oh lord, just so incredibly sexy in that lacy, red-

He smiled widely as he thought about her. She had agreed to move in with him. Kate _freaking!_ tough-as-nails Beckett had agreed to move in with him. Essentially agreeing to start a life with him.

A day after returning form L.A and an evening of basically screwing his brains out (he still has faint bite marks), she had agreed to it as they laid intertwined in post-coital bliss. It was sudden and unexpected. He was surprised - no, _shocked_ - at her turnabout because when he had asked her initially she froze and stammered to a 'I'll think about it'.

But something had changed. She had a sense of determination, a sense of renewed commitment.

As if she wanted to prove something.

Well, maybe her former whatever-he-was' death prompted her to this sudden epiphany. The epiphany that Josh Davidson was her one and done.

"Would that be all, Sir?"

He glances up at the friendly, attractive sales clerk and nods before darting his eyes downward to the object again.

"Thank you... yeah."

He can't keep the stupid grin off his handsome face. He was taking the plunge and hopefully she would dive in after him.

He was sure she would, otherwise he wouldn't be standing here doing this terrifying, exhilirating, beautiful thing.

_'Yep,_' he thought _'this would fit perfectly_.'

And Mrs. Kate Davidson _does_ have a nice ring to it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oooh, snap. What ya think about that? Good cliffhanger or not? This was kind of a filler chapter, but I hope it sets up my plot nicely. I'm not sure how it's gonna go from here.**

**Anyway, like always reviews are appreciated - it inspires me immensely.**

**Thanks for reading! **

**I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So not very many liked the last chapter - yeah, I know, I know. It's hard to read and Kate, well, she's turning out to be quite the villian. It wasn't my intention, honest. But to those upset readers I say 'oh ye of little faith!' Bear with my angst-ridden tale of our two star-crossed lovers - it _will_ get better... eventually. I do solemnly swear. In the meantime however, this is an angst-filled fest. **Just wait and read. You'll love me for it... eventually. I will make it spectacular (or so I hope). :-/****

**If you don't want to read something this heavy, feel free to explore my fluff-piece, 'Mr. & Mrs. Castle' (yes, this is shameless self-promotion).**

**Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada - I own nothing. I'm only saying this because of one of the GATT trade negotiation rounds. **

***Blink blink***

**Anyway... **

**(No, I don't do drugs)**

**(Updated version - corrected a few mistakes and added a few things, not too much though)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Goodbye My Almost Lover<strong>

It was busy tonight.

It's always busy on a Fridays. He knows because it has been-

Was.

It _was _their ritual. Every Friday after their shifted had ended. Celebratory drinks. _Free, _celebratory drinks. He, Ryan, Esposito and Beck-

He quickly throws a lick of liquor down his throat and winces, satisfied that his mind has been numbed just a little bit more.

The Haunt is a buzzing, moving, living organism filled with cigarette smoke, the suave crooning of Eddie's piano and a sea of nameless faces. Sounds of laughter and friendship and conversation bounce off the walls and hit him from all directions. The jovial mood is suffocating. But he welcomes the suffocation, the noise provides him with some distraction from the despair quietness brings. He has had enough quiet, dark, contemplating evenings at home. He needs this. Needs to do this. And he needs a drink to do it.

Sitting alone at the their usual booth (dubbed the '12th'), he is not Richard Castle. No, he's someone else completely with his new bearded, guarded and careful disposition. He doesn't feel like himself. Maybe he's never going to be Rick Castle again. People change, evolve, mutate, adapt, don't they? Well, he's changing; shedding parts of himself. He's surviving, adapting, evolving, mutating.

Into what, he's not sure.

Right now in his solitude he is Hemmingway, Fitzgerald, Poe and all of literature's tragic heroes rolled into one as he elegantly nurses his drink, melting ice cubes clinking against the surface of the glass. All the great writers wrote here, he told them once. Well, maybe he wasn't one of the greats, but this is where he found solace – a sense of belonging amongst the godfathers and custodians of his trade. He knew his place here; he made the rules here. He wasn't a cop. He was a writer. And this was a writer's bar.

Well, it wasn't a writer's bar to them. It had become _their_ bar. Their little family's bar. The four of them. Sometimes six if you include Roy and Lanie.

And he wasn't just a writer to them. To them he'll always be Rick Castle - friend, partner, brother.

But things are about to change. Things _have_ changed - especially given the letter (and cheque) he sent the Captain two days ago. It has been more than two weeks since he's been at the precinct. Two weeks of Beckett staring at his chair, two weeks of Beckett frequently glancing at the elevator doors, two weeks of Beckett not calling Castle.

Two weeks of an incomplete Beckett. Two weeks of a broken Castle.

Brian the Bartender greets them with a nod while he's wiping a glass clean and directs them to the '12th' with a jerk of his head.

They find the solitary figure in the corner of the booth, intently staring at the glass in his hands. When the two figures cast a shadow over the dimly lit surface of the table, he glances up.

"Hey guys," he greets with a faint smile.

"Hey Bro."

"Hey Castle."

Esposito and Ryan greet simultaneously as they slid into the booth. Before they even have time to shrug off their coats, Brian the Bartender brings them their usual drinks.

The three men sit in silence while the noise and the mood and the music of the Haunt dance around them. Finally, Ryan looks up and breaks the silence.

"So... you're, uh, leaving, huh?"

Rick looks up at the blue-eyed Irishman and then glances at his Hispanic partner. They're his friends, his brothers. He owes them this at least. He owes them a farewell.

He nods slowly. "I've done enough research... Time to move on." _In more ways than one. _He doesn't elaborate and they don't call him out on his lie. They know perfectly well what - or _who_ - the cause is of his sudden departure.

He lifts his glass and smiles; it doesn't reach his eyes and the ones they return lack joy. "To memories," he pauses for a moment. "And loyal friends."

Esposito lifts his glass as well. "To memories."

"To loyal friends," Ryan's echoes.

The clink their glasses, letting the sound blend in with the mélange of other noises.

"To the 12th," Rick finishes.

[][][]

_Two days ago..._

"Beckett?"

She spun around at the sound of Montgomery's voice. Something in his tone was... _off_. Her brow furrowed as she watched him. "Yes Sir?"

"Can I see you in my office? Now."

She followed him in and he closed the door. "Take a seat," he said quietly, gesturing to the nearby chair. She was really worried now.

He waited a few moments and gathered his thoughts, his hands clasped out in front of him. A picture of Evelyn and one of his whole family adorned his desk.

"Captain what is-"

"Castle hasn't been here in two weeks," Roy interrupted, looking up at his star detective. His expression was unreadable and Kate's stomach was in knots because of it.

She had been lying to her team about Castle - telling them that he wanted time to write, that he had meetings, that he was busy. She left out the part where she couldn't get through to him; the part where he left her a message on her answering machine telling her he 'needed time to figure things out'; the part where they slept together; the part where she ripped his heart out.

"Uh, yeah, Sir, he's been quite busy," she returned with a tight smile. Roy watched her with something akin to sympathy... or pity. Her brow furrowed at his expression.

Why was he looking-

"He's not coming back, Beckett." Confusion clouded her graceful features. She shifted in her seat and the lines in her forehead deepened as alarm set in.

"What- what are you talking about, Captain?"

Roy pulled out a piece of paper out of his desk drawer and handed it to her. "He's not coming back, Detective. That is his letter of... resignation. For lack of a better word." She took the piece of paper with a shaking hand, feeling all the blood drain from her face. The letter had the usual 'I am grateful for the opportunity' and 'It has been an honour' written into it. What caught her, though, was the 'Sincerely yours' and his signature at the bottom of the page.

She slowly raked a hand through her silky mane before looking out the window; her world was spinning. She barely heard Roy saying that Castle had also donated three million dollars to the NYPD's-

"...children and widow's fund." He paused for a moment, licked his lips before continuing. "He's also provided money, specifically, for a new vehicle for you." At that her eyes snapped back to Roy's. She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat and pursed her lips into a tight line; her expression growing hard.

"I don't want his money. I don't want anything from him," Kate spat out bitterly, abruptly getting up from her seat, Rick's letter still in her hands.

"Kate." She turned around, rapidly blinking away the sudden moisture in her eyes. "You didn't know? He didn't say anything?" Roy hoped that she did know.

He had left out to mention the personal letter that he had received from Castle himself, expressing his gratitude and sorrow at leaving. He didn't give a clear reason and Roy wasn't going to poke around trying to find an explanation. He was pretty sure it had something to do with the woman standing in front of him and their trip to LA. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure what must have happened.

One thing was clear, though: Richard Castle didn't _want_ to leave.

Kate took a few moments to compose herself. "No, he didn't say a damn word."

With that she left, his letter of resignation still in hand.

His surrender.

His white flag.

Her defeat.

[][][]

_Presently, back at the Haunt..._

"You really leaving, Castle? I mean, for good this time?" Ryan asks, his tone laced with hope.

Rick takes a sip of his third (or forth?) scotch on the rocks. "'Fraid so... Honey Milk," he replies with a slight smirk. The other two men laugh lightly at the moniker.

"It's not gonna be the same without you, Bro. You've become like family," Esposito says after a while.

He gives them a lopsided smile. "You too. I'm gonna miss you guys," he replies, clinking his glass with each of theirs once more.

The three men sit in silence for a moment, savouring their drinks before Ryan speaks. "So, what about Beckett?"

At the mention of her name, Rick's expression sobers and he sits up, tensing. "She'll be fine." His tone is curt and terse. He keeps his eyes glued to the table, absently taking in the scratches on the surface.

"You think so? You've been through a lot together, man. You're her partner," Ryan continues, imploringly.

He looks up at Kevin, his expression hard. "I'm _not_ her partner." He takes another sip and shrugs. "Well, not anymore."

Silence descends for a few moments. "You love her, don't you?" It's more of a statement than a question. Rick scrubs a hand over his scruffy features.

He sighs and his shoulders sag; he's Atlas carrying the weight of the world. "Yes," he admits softly. "Yes, of course I do." He looks back up to the two detectives. "She's the love of my life," he states, a hint of sadness lacing his tone. Why bother hiding it anymore? It's not as if she doesn't know already.

The two detectives glance at each other and then back at him.

"Then why are you walking away, Castle?" Esposito spits out.

This is ridiculous.

Rick's cobalt blues lock with Javier's dark, stormy gaze. "What the hell am I suppose to do? Wait around forever?"

"Give her some time, Castle. She'll come around. I know she will," Ryan - the ever romantic - interjects quietly, hopefully.

"When?" He snaps. "After she moves in with Dr. Motorcycle Boy? Or after she marries him? Or, wait, I know - after she pops out a few of his kids?" He's angry now. And maybe a little drunk. "C'mon... you guys tell me when's she's gonna come around? Shit, we can even _bet_ on it!" He finishes his tirade, his face contorting with fury.

Ryan lets out a breath and averts his gaze from Rick's blazing blue eyes. The man in front of him wasn't the Castle they have gotten used to, wasn't the man they knew. He was like a wounded animal - cornered, dangerous and reckless.

Esposito sighs and sits back. "She loves you, man. Of that I'm sure. Hell, it's plain as day for everyone."

"Yeah, everyone _except_ Kate," Rick mutters in reply, his gaze on one of the empty beer bottles strewn in front of them. "No, boys, I'm done chasing her. My mind's made up," he states emphatically, sitting up straight.

"So you're _never_ coming back?" Ryan asks.

He flags down Brian the Bartender and then turns back to his friends. His brothers. "Never say never, Ryan. _Never_ say never." He throws the last mouthful of scotch down his throat before continuing. "But that's up to Kate now. The ball is in her court."

The three men continued to celebrate, remember and even mourn - they were friends, partners, brothers.

Always.

[][][]

_The previous evening..._

Her heart was thudding against her ribcage, her palms were sweaty, blood was rushing in her ears. Finally, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door opened to reveal a scruffy, barefoot and domestic-looking Rick. An incredibly sexy Rick. He stared at her in shock for a few moments before recovering. He quickly schooled his features, careful not to reveal his true feelings.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, crossing his arms defensively.

"Can I come in please? I need to talk to you." Rick watched her for a long moment - this wasn't the Kate Beckett he was used to. Sure, she was still stunning, but there was a light missing from her eyes. She seemed lost, vulnerable. He wanted to draw her into an embrace and-

He stepped aside wordlessly to let her in; briefly closing his eyes when she walked by - the scent of her perfume swirled all around him.

He closed the door and held onto the cold, metal door handle for a moment before turning around and addressing his guest. "Detective-" The title was chewed out with a hint of bitterness. "-to what do I owe this pleasure?" His tone was aloof, his heart was racing.

"You're leaving," Kate stated simply, wringing her hands together tensely. "You're leaving and you weren't going to say goodbye."

He watched her for a long moment, clenching his jaw. "Don't worry, I _am_ saying goodbye to Ryan and Esposito tomorrow night. And I've already said goodbye to the Captain and Lanie," he replied coolly. He walked past her towards the kitchen.

"You want a drink?"

She shook her head and there were a few beats of silence. "What about me? Were you planning on saying goodbye to me?" Her tone was small and gentle. So unlike the woman standing in front of him.

His expression grew hard, anger ghosting over his features. He wanted to scream and yell at her. After all, this was _her_ doing. She had to have known this was what he was going to do. The only option that he was left with.

"Honestly? I didn't think it was such a good idea to see you after our... last encounter." He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the kitchen counter. "Besides, we're saying goodbye now, aren't we?"

Kate dropped her gaze and swallowed thickly. "I don't want to say goodbye, Castle," she stated quietly before looking back up again, blinking away tears.

He uncrossed his arms. "Then what do you want from me, Kate?" He asked, his voice softly caressing her name.

She briefly closed her eyes. "I want you to stay."

Rick took a step closer to her. "Why?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "_Why_? You're- you're my partner, Rick. My best friend."

Wrong answer.

He let out a harsh laugh. "Partner? Best friend?" The titles were spat out with disdain. "Firstly, I'm _not_ your partner. If we were, we would be equals. Of course _that's_ not the case."

"Rick-"

He cut her off before she could continue. "And secondly - best friend? Really, Kate? Do you always sleep with your best friends?"

"Please, I-"

"You what?" He took another few steps towards her, enraged by now. The boiling pot of emotions threatening to spill over. "You _what_, Kate?"

"I need you here with me."

"You need me? Oh, yeah because I'm the guy who brightens your day, right? I'm the clown, the court jester, the nine-year old on a sugar rush. Just the immature writer who gives you a few laughs. That's what I am to you! That's all I've ever been to you!"

"No! You're more than that. _So_ much more. We're friends. Rick, please-"

"_Friends_?" He asked in a dangerously low tone, taking another step towards her. "You don't get it, do you? I don't want to be just your damn friend!" He violently threw back at her. Hot, thick tears were by now streaming down her cheeks. He didn't feel bad because of it. "Besides, when have you ever been there for me?"

She bowed her head and took a shaky breath, pushing her lips into a thin line. She looked up at him with wet, pleading eyes. "Can't we work this out? Please."

He averted her eyes while shaking his head vehemently. "Are you still with Josh?" Rick asked suddenly.

She briefly closed her eyes and took a moment before quietly answering: "Yes."

He knew what the answer was going to be, but it still stung like a sonofabitch. "So... why do you need me? You have him. The love of your life. Your one and done. Or do you expect me to stay and watch you move in with him, be with him and, what, just take it with a smile?"

The silence stretched out for a while. "I don't know what I want, Rick," Kate admitted softly. "I just-" she rubbed a hand over her forehead. "-don't know anymore," she concluded meekly, locking her eyes with his.

He took another few steps towards her; there were only a few feet of distance between them.

"Well, figure it out. I know what I want... It's you. It's us." He hesitated before continuing. "I love you, but I can't keep doing this." With that he walked towards the door, not bothering to study her reaction to the words 'I love you'. The last time she threw it back in his face.

"Wait... That's it?" He paused for a moment before opening the door and turning back to her - sad, longing, shattered.

No, this isn't how they were supposed to end. He promised alw-

"What's there left to say?" Resignation laced his words, defeat seeped into his being.

This was his Waterloo.

This was her Waterloo.

She walked out, dazed and broken. Wishing things were different, hoping they could be repaired, longing to be close again.

They never said goodbye.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Mmmm, this came out a little differently than I anticipated. I know Kate is infuriating, but I need to keep going with the drama - they're not just going to be fixed. It's complicated and terrifying. Besides, I think that she's someone who finds it difficult to make decisions like these; she doesn't like to make changes. So, she'll probably chew on this and think about it and analyze it. She's confused right now, because I truly believe that she does have strong feelings for Josh - in my story anyway. Why else would she stay with him? And then there's what she is feeling for Castle. Maybe time apart will make things clear to her. **

**Once again, please review and tell me what you think.**

**I apologize for any spelling or grammar mistakes.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and feedback! This story has picked up interest nicely and I'm really enjoying the journey. I hope ya'll stick with me until the end - I'm not sure when that will be or how we will get there or even where it will be, but rest assured it'll be good.**

**On with the show - here is some plot progression in this one.**

**Disclaimer: Not. Mine.**

**(Updated version - spotted a few errors)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Hallelujah<strong>

He dreams of her often.

Of them.

Of the night that changed everything.

_Remember when I moved in you _

The details are vivid and beautiful and tortorous. It is burned into his writer's mind.

The music of their sounds, the truth in their synchronized movements, the promise of their united bodies.

He remembers the way she was clothed in only seductive darkness and gentle moonlight. How the heat swirled between them, the rustling of the sheets and the rhythmic squeeking of the bed. The breathless moans exchanged in the quiet night and her hot, open-mouthed kisses. The silky softness of her damp skin and the furious pulsing of her heartbeat. The way it felt around him when she arched and clima-

She felt like a mystery, tasted like a poem and moved like a love story. She was written for him, but before he could get to the end of her tale their chapter was teared apart.

It had ended like a tragedy.

_And the holy dove was moving too..._

Now all he was left with was the broken grunting of her name while he was inside some bottle blonde celebutant or big-haired bimbette. He'd then open his eyes to find the one-night-stand staring up at him in confusion - not the pair of twinkling, dazzling, enigmatic, golden-sprinkled olive orbs that he loved so much. Those eyes that saw so much, that revealed so much, that veiled so much. He'd then roll onto his side away from the forgetable rendezvous, hoping that when he woke up in the morning that it would be _her_ he found next to him.

And that it would be until death do us part.

[][][]

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Paula greeted brightly as she threw open the curtains to the darkened hotel suite, letting cruel light reveal everything. In the middle of the king size bed, tangled in white sheets and stark naked, laid a groaning, grumpy and hung-over Rick Castle. His 'companion' for the night - a young, beautiful brunette socialite - was already gone, courtesy of his trusty agent. He really hated the morning-afters with these fangirls.

They weren't Kate.

"Ahhh, shit." Turning onto his stomach, he placed the pillow over his pounding head.

"Oh no you don't, Mr. Big Shot Writer," Paula said yanking the pillow away. "You have an interview in two hours and we still have to meet with Gina before that... So-" Without warning she pulled the sheets away, revealing Richard Castle in all his wonderful glory.

"Paula!" He exclaimed, whipping around before suddenly remembering his state of undress. The Brooklyn-bred, tough-as-nails Paula, however, seemed completely unfazed as she dragged him out of bed.

"-get your fine ass out of bed and into a shower." She pushed him towards the door and gave him a playful slap on his bare butt. "Ah c'mon Ricky, it isn't something I haven't see before," she quipped with a wink, smirking at his indignation. She walked away, leaving a stunned Rick in the doorway of his bathroom. "Thirty minutes, Ricky, thirty minutes. Time is money." With that, she was out the door before he could even reply.

He sighed and turned around, coming face-to-face with the stranger looking back at him from the mirror. He had lost weight and had dark circles under his eyes. He stared at his reflection for a long time, taking in the changes that have occurred over the last six weeks. The mutation that he has undergone in the time since he last saw her. The wound was still there, healing, and was bound to leave a nasty scar.

He was certain of one thing: he was never going to fully recover - from walking away, from losing her, from loving her.

But plastering on his famous megawatt smile, Rick Castle did what he did best: he created an illusion.

Spun a story.

Masqueraded the truth.

Put on a show.

"Well, ladies and gentlement, time for the Rick Castle show."

And the Oscar goes to...

[][][]

He glanced at his watch and looked back up at the surgery board and sighed. No, there will be no date with a certain hot, detective girlfriend. Again. He let out a breath and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. In more ways than one. The last few weeks have been... _strained_ between him and Kate. And he had a pretty good idea why.

_'Dr. Stevens to Cardiology, Dr. Stevens to Cardiology.'_

Ever since the sudden departure of Castle, which delighted the dashing doctor, Kate had grown distant. She was evasive about when she was going to move in and apparently very busy at work. Josh understood; losing Castle was a big blow for her. After all, she did consider the man her partner. To Josh, however, the mystery novelist was nothing more than an annoyance. And a threat.

Now he was gone and Josh had a beautiful, square cut, five carat diamond-

"Hey man, how are you doing?" Dr. George Stevens greeted as he sidled up to his fellow cardiac surgeon, golf buddy and best friend.

"Oh, hey George," Josh replied distractedly. "Yeah, fine. Just... busy." He sighed again and the other man turned to look at him.

"Josh, c'mon man. What's wrong?" Josh glanced at him and realization hit. "Oh, I know that face: it's your problems-with-Kate-face."

Josh's brow furrowed in confusion. "My what?"

"Your problems-with-Kate-face. You always get this expression whenever things with the missus aren't going so well."

Josh folded his arms and turned to look at the board again. "Firstly, nothing is wrong between Kate and I. We're both just really busy. And secondly, she's not missus yet."

George smiled and nodded. "Ah... You haven't asked her?"

Josh sighed and shook his head. "Not yet. Haven't found the right time."

"You will and she'll say yes."

"I hope so," Josh mumbled in reply. With her, he was never sure. She always seemed to have one foot out the door. There was a pause before he continued. "So, what's new with you?"

George shrugged and shifted. "Uh, well, I'm going to do a Doctors Without Borders mission."

Josh whipped around to face his friend. "What?

"Yeah and it's gonna be really intense"

"Where? Where are you going?"

"Sudan. Well, Darfur actually. They really need a lot of help out there, you know?

"How long?"

"Six months."

Josh let out a breath and seemed to fighting an internal battle. This was his passion, his purpose, but he had to make sacrifices if he wanted Kate in his life. And he did. Hell, he wanted to marry her and have a family with her and grow old with her.

But did she want the same things he did?

He wasn't so sure anymore.

"Wow, that's great, man," he responded softly, turning back to the board.

George regarded him for a long moment - he knew his friend lived for these missions and that he was the best in his field. He crossed his arms and turned back to face the board as well. "They especially need cardiac surgeons out there. There aren't many." Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Josh clench his jaw. "The UN has been really helpful in setting up treatment centres and providing us with additional equipment-"

"When?"

George slowly turned towards him and lifted an eyebrow.

Is he serious?

Josh leveled him with a calm, collected and determined look. "_When_, George?"

Yep, he knew that look - Dr. Josh Davidson was hooked. "We're leaving in a month's time."

Josh slowly nodded his head, deep in thought before turning back to his friend. "Get me all the information on this mission. I'm interested."

[][][]

_'Rave reviews for _Deadly Heat_ as Richard Castle continues to travel the US.'_

The headline was the only the connection that she had with him. She hasn't heard from him in six weeks. Besides the grainy photo accompanying the article, she hasn't seen him since their last encounter.

Within a few days, _Deadly Heat_ will be available. Kate wasn't sure that she wanted to read it - there were rumours that it might be the last Nikki Heat book. Did he put a bullet through Nikki's-

"Yo Beckett!" Esposito's voice snapped her out of her musings. He was all business. "Got those tapes of security footage. Wanna check it out?"

Right, yeah. They had case. Without Castle.

_'Focus, Kate.'_ She glanced at the open newspaper with a grinning Rick Castle staring back at her and quickly covered the article with her hand as Esposito approached. He noticed the action and locked eyes with her. Nothing was said, but a conversation was taking place.

Kate broke eye contact and shifted the newspaper under a slew of official papers, folding her hands on top of it. Hiding it. Covering what she felt.

"Uh, yeah... What have you got?"

The show must go on...

[][][]

"So... have you changed your mind about Nikki Heat yet?" Gina asked as Rick plopped down onto a soft chair in her suite. He made sure that they weren't staying in the same hotel. Having her on tour was bad enough.

"Nope," he replied with an infuriating grin. Paula shook her head and turned away, not really in the mood for World War Three. Gina took a breath in an effort to calm herself; he had the ability to turn her into a raging lunatic. And the last few weeks have been hell.

_'Stay calm. Just stay calm.'_

"Rick," she started condescendingly. "We've discussed this. You have a deal for six books. It's in your contract."

He shrugged. "So? What's your point?" She grinded her teeth; she could feel all of her self-control seep out onto the carpet. It really didn't take much.

"My _point_ is that you can't just walk away without any consequences."

"Yeah, I know. You've told me before. I get it."

Inhale. Exhale. She got up and moved around the back of the couch, turned around and faced him again. He was flashing her a spiteful smirk. That space between his eyes really looked attractive to put a bullet in right about now.

"No. You don't get it. _Deadly Heat_ goes on sale nationwide in the next day or two. It's gonna be a hit, Rick. It has received rave reviews already. Are you willing to give that up? All of that? For what?" He was studiously avoiding her gaze, growing more guarded by the second. She paused for a moment, knowing the topic she was about to broach would get his attention. "Look I know you and Detective Beckett had a... fallout-" _'More like a lovers' quarrel'_ she thought. "-but c'mon Rick. Get over it already."

His eyes snapped up to hers; blue orbs ablaze with a myriad of emotions. Rage was the only one she recognized. When he spoke his tone was low and menacing. "Don't."

Paula stepped in and tried to intervene. "Rick, she's right. This has gone on far too long. You need to-"

"Shut up!" He sprang to his feet. "Both of you." His fiery gaze shifted between the two shocked women. "Now I'm not going to tell you again. I am _done_ with Nikki Heat. You hear me? Done. I don't give a shit what you do. Sue me."

That pushed Gina over the edge. "They'll do more than that you idiot! They are going to tear up your contract!" Rick turned around and poured himself a drink, unwilling to listen to this. He was so tired. "Are you listening to me?" When he turned back, Gina was a few steps away from him. "If you do this-" She moistened her lips and tentatively touched his arm. "-your writing career is over, Rick."

He looked at her for a long time, his blue eyes steely in their perusal. "I. Don't. Care." He downed his drink and walked towards the door.

"She's not worth it, Rick." It was Paula who spoke, her tone quiet and surprisingly gentle. She walked a few paces towards him. "I've known you for what? Ten, fifteen years. I know you, Ricky. Writing is your life. Don't throw it away because of some stupid woman."

He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "She isn't just some stupid woman. She's...," he trailed off, turning his head away to avoid their inquisitive gazes. He was feeling himself break apart. Again.

And he couldn't do it anymore.

There were a few moments of deadly silence. "You love her, don't you? You really love her," Gina said softly.

He pursed his lips and glanced at his shoes. When he returned his gaze to theirs, his eyes were glimmering with emotion. "After the tour, Nikki Heat is done."

He didn't bother staying to see their reactions. He was out the door, continuing with his journey to nowhere.

Indifferent and insignificant.

Changing. Mutating. Evolving.

Surviving.

[][][]

She thinks about him often.

About them.

About the night that changed everything.

_And it's not a cry that you hear at night..._

The memories are bright and alive and painful. It is fused into her detective's mind.

The reverence of their sounds, the epiphany in their synchronized movements, the sacredness of their united bodies.

She remembers how his face, hovering over hers, was awashed in pale moonlight and naked adoration. How the warmth of his body seeped into her being, enveloping her soul. The soft mattress pressing against her bare back and the steady rocking of the bed. How his low voice made love to her name every time it tumbled out of his mouth in a passionate whisper. The scratch of his stubble against her soft skin that had her shivering and the flexing muscles of his shoulders. The way it felt when he moved inside her.

He felt like the future, tasted like a new beginning and moved like forever. But she was caught up in the past and was hanging onto the present, shattering what could have been.

And now they were stuck in a moment.

_It's not someone who's seen the light..._

She's staring at the dedication page, trying to take it all in. Trying to translate the erratic beating of her heart. Trying to grab hold of her spinning world.

Lanie came around earlier, wary and serious. She thrusted _Deadly Heat_ into Kate's hands and left without saying a word.

She didn't want to open it. She didn't want to know how Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook ended. She didn't want to read the dedication.

But she did.

And she crumbled.

'To Johanna,

thank you for bringing her into the world. For giving life to my sun. She illuminates everything.'

_It's a cold and broken Hallelujah._

She's not the sun, but rather the envious moon. Cold, enigmatic and surrounded by darkness.

_He_ was the sun. Bright, warm and captivating.

And she wanted - _needed_ - to be near him again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *Scratches head* This chapter was... interesting to write. And a little challenging with all the metaphors and imagery and the parts in the middle. I hope it is decent. This moves the plot on quite a bit as well.**

**Please review and let me know what you think. I hope it didn't get too heavy and 'poetic'.**

**I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.**

**Title and lyrics in the text are from the beautiful Leonard Cohen song 'Hallelujah'.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hi there, remember me? Yeah, I'm the writer who doesn't update for like four months and then, boom, suddenly inspiration hits. What can I say? That's just the way I operate. And I'm embracing that. I'm just not good with the whole update-everyday-thing like some brilliantly talented writers in this fandom are able to do. Anyway, I have to say for over the last few months I have been stuck on how to continue this story. I kinda wrote myself into a bit of a hole, but hopefully with this installment, the muse will return. **

**So, please forgive me and enjoy this way overdue chapter. Remember we left off where Rick was on a book tour, being all miserable and Kate was back in New York, being all miserable. And then she got his book and read the dedication and then her heart kinda melted and that's where we left it. **

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately they are not mine. *Sigh* **

**(_Italics_ - flashbacks)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - Someone Like You<strong>

"_Kate?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I want to ask you something."_

[][][]

She's nervous. No, scratch that. She's scared shitless. Absolutely terrified. This could either go very well, ending with him spinning her around like in a cheesy movie scene. Or it could go horribly wrong with him rejecting her and shattering her fragile heart.

She really hopes for the former because she's made her choice. She has chosen to follow her heart. And it has led her here. To him. The sun to her bleak, dreary world.

But what will she find? _Who_ will she find? And most importantly: will he still feel the same?

Her palms are sweaty, her heart rate is picking up the closer the elevator gets to his floor. She knows he's back. It's been in the papers and she overheard Ryan and Esposito talking about it. Okay, so she kinda eavesdropped on that conversation, desperate for any piece of information regarding him. It was _that _summer all over again. He's been back for a week already. She's aware of that, but she needed time. Time to gather the courage. Time to prepare herself for this. Time to get all of her defenses in order if things go south.

But, no matter what the outcome, there would be no 'if onlys' anymore.

No going back now.

She lets out a shaky breath and tilts her head back against the elevator wall and closes her eyes for a few moments, her mind wandering back over the whirlwind of life-changing events of the last few weeks.

[][][]

___He was smiling at her, the affection, the hope, written all over his handsome face and his dark eyes showing everything she didn't feel. _____She could love him. The dashing doctor, handsome and kind and sweet. She really could. Given time, a lot of time.__

____But he wasn't Rick.____

_"Hey." _Josh greeted, leaning in to peck her cheek. __

__He couldn't spin crazy theories, or bring her coffee at 5am in the morning, or make her laugh in the midst of dread and death.__

__Or write her a love story. For her, to her, because of her.__

_"Hey." Kate returned a smile, stepping into Josh's apartment. _

_"So, I made your favourite," he said as he led her into the kitchen._

_She smiled briefly. "It smells great." _

_He handed her a glass of wine, looking nervous. "Here you go."_

_"Oh, uh, thanks." She glanced around, becoming aware of the soft flickering light of the candles, the table that was set for two._

_Huh. O-kay. _

_"What's the occasion?" Kate asked, nudging her head towards the multitude of candles. _

_Josh laughed tightly and shrugged. "Ah, just... you know - celebrating."_

_Celebrating? _

_She frowned. "O-kay. What exactly are we celebrating?" _

_His smile widened. "Us. Our future," Josh said cryptically, his usual charming self while he clinked his glass with hers. "You moving in... Eventually."_

_Damn it. _

_He was bringing up living together again and wanted to know why she hadn't moved in yet. And he was referring to their future._

_Shit. Shittery. Shit-shit._

_She really didn't have the strength for this. It's only been two days since Lanie grimly shoved the latest Nikki Heat into her hands and two days since she read that heartbreaking and beautiful dedication. Addressed to her mother, but for Kate. _

_Always for Kate._

_She sighed, putting her glass down. She felt weary and that weariness seeped into her tone "Josh, please, I-" _

_"-I know, Kate," he cut her off, the smile sliding off his face. He blew out a breath, resignation flickering in his eyes, and scrubbed a hand over his face."Look, why don't we just enjoy dinner and talk about this later, okay?"_

[][][]

"Kate!"

Shit. Shittery. Shit-shit.

Her heart pounds even faster now. It's not Castle standing in front of her, but Alexis. And she looks wary, on guard.

"Alexis, hi."

The teenager recovers quickly and a steeliness, a coldness takes up residence in her eyes and throughout her posture.

"What are you doing here?" Her tone is icy and accusing.

Well, who could blame her?

Kate twists her hands nervously, briefly glancing down at her shoes, gathering courage, before looking at Alexis again. She sees anger, disappointment, a flicker of hope, but mostly hurt scattered all over the young woman's face.

"I- I'm here to see your dad. I..." She takes a breath. "I need to talk to him. Can I come in?"

Alexis folds her arms across her chest, closing up. The girl is trying to protect herself.

From her, from Kate. And that stings.

A lot.

"He's not here."

Kate nods slowly, accepting the frigid response from Castle's daughter. She broke his heart. She deserves this.

"Okay."

An uncomfortable silence envelopes them, stifles the atmosphere. What now? Alexis is looking at her expectantly, eyebrows raised and mouth set in a grim line. Kate could take the hint and just leave, but she can see it in the girl's eyes - she wants what her father wants.

An answer. An explanation. Something.

The detective takes a breath. "Alexis, I don't know if you know what happened between your father and me, but-"

"Save it." Okay, maybe she doesn't want answers or an explanation. She wants to rip the detective a new one. Draw some blood. "I know exactly what happened, _Detective_," Alexis spits out, her tone dripping with bitterness. It doesn't suit her. Her blue eyes are blazing and watery, a tumult of emotions swirling around in them with everything she is feeling clear to see, to dissect, to flinch from.

So much like her father.

"You broke his heart. That's what happened. He's crazy, absolutely _crazy_ about you, but you're just too blind and stupid and selfish to care." Hot, traitorous tears fall one by one down her cheeks while she makes her impassioned speech. The teenager swipes angrily at them, not willing to let the older woman see them. To see how much Kate's rejection hurt. To see how much she also felt. To see how much her father's pain is wounding her as well.

Kate's own eyes widen. "Alexis, no-"

"-He's in love with you, but you don't feel the same. That's it, right?" Kate is shaking her head and taking a step closer.

That's a lie.

"-Wait, that isn't-" She's desperate to make the girl understand - she loves him. She _loves_ him. The nine-year-old-on-a-sugar-rush, man-child, Assistant Volunteer Homicide Detective, writer of wrongs, one and done, love of her life. Him. Rick Castle. Maybe she's a little late in realizing her own feelings, maybe she's a little lost when it comes to her own heart, maybe she's a little stupid when it comes to what she wants.

But she's here now.

She's here with everything, with her heart, with her bared soul. That has to count for something, right?

"Kate, why don't you just do us all a favour - especially my dad - and just get out of here." Alexis is blinking away the fresh, hot tears teeming in her eyes. Kate's breath hitches at the sorrow in the girl's voice. "Just... leave. For good. Don't call, don't-"

"Alexis?"

Martha.

Great. Just perfect. First the daughter, now the mother.

"Who's at the-" Martha stops short, her mouth opened in shock. She recovers well and masks her surprise quickly. "Kate!" She smiles, a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Well, isn't this a lovely surprise?"

Martha Rodgers is _really_ a good actress because it's clear that this isn't a 'lovely surprise'. Quite the opposite actually.

The older redhead opens the door that her granddaughter has stubbornly kept closed and sweeps her arm out to invite Kate inside.

"Come on in." Alexis whips her head around to glare at her grandmother while Kate gapes at her.

Wait. What?

"Gram! She can't-"

"Alexis." Her voice is strong and laced with a warning. She doesn't look at her granddaughter, but keeps her clear, all-seeing blue eyes on Kate. Her gaze also holding a warning, saying: _"If you don't get in here now, then don't bother coming back._" Kate doesn't hesitate any longer and steps inside, passing Castle's daughter.

The teenager is shaking her head, her arms folded and her eyes welling up again with fresh tears. Martha takes a few moments to talk quietly with the younger redhead, rubbing her hands up and down the girl's arms in an effort to soothe her. She gives Kate one final glare before stalking up the stairs.

"Alexis-" Kate starts going after her, but is stopped when the older woman gently grasps her arm.

"Leave it, Dear," Martha sighs. "She'll cool down. Eventually."

The detective takes another glance up the stairs before letting Martha lead her to the kitchen. She sits down and watches the matriarch taking out glasses from the cupboard, humming a tune merrily as she goes along. She stays quiet, not sure how to approach the subject of Rick Castle with his mother, not even sure how much she knows. However, judging by Alexis' reaction, it is a safe bet that Martha knows a great deal.

Probably too much.

She's shaken out of her thoughts when a glass of red wine is set before her. "Here you go, Kiddo. It looks like you need it."

Why is she being so kind?

"Uh... thank you, Martha." And she's not just referring to the glass of wine. They sit in silence for a few moments, which of course feels like hours to Kate. She needs to say something, anything, to try to expla-

"You know, you are really not Richard's type," Martha says, breaking the silence. O-kay. To take offense or not to take offense? That is the question. "And I'm grateful for that." Taking offense then it is. "I'm happy that my son has fallen in love with someone who is nothing like the flighty women he usually spends his time with," the older woman continues, her translucent eyes boring into Kate's.

Oh. She approves?

Kate swallows and breaks eye contact, suddenly feeling a wave of emotion hitting her. "Martha, I-"

"Please, let me finish, Kate," Martha says quietly, placing a hand on the detective's hand. "I was happy to see that he was getting up in the morning, full of purpose and drive and something to look forward to. His life had meaning." She directs her gaze back towards the beautiful detective. "And that was all because of you."

There's a 'but' coming up, isn't there?

"But... you've hurt him." Kate is taken aback when Martha turns tear-filled eyes toward her. "You've truly hurt him, Kate."

The detective swallows past the lump in her throat, her vision blurring rapidly. "I know," she whispers, her voice cracking under the pressure of emotion. "I know I have, Martha. And I'm so unbelievably sorry for that. I was a coward, pushing him away like I did." She turns her eyes to the older woman, hoping to show her that she, Kate Beckett, loves her son. That she is somehow worthy of him. "But that's why I'm here. I want to to fix this... if I can."

"You've caused a lot of damage," the older woman states. She likes Kate, but what she did cut deeply.

To the bone.

"I know," she agrees again, because there's no way around it. There's no way around the truth.

Silence joins and covers them as they sit together, lost in thought. Martha, with serious, almost pleading, praying eyes turns to Kate - to the love of her son's life - and breaks the overwhelming quietness. No pretending any longer, no meandering around the subject.

"Do you love my son, Kate?"

_Yes, a million times yes. _

The realisation that she loved him didn't surprise her, it wasn't an epiphany of some sort. It wasn't a bolt of lightning that suddenly hit her. It was simply a fact, the truth.

Kate Beckett loves Richard Castle. Period.

Simple, plain truth. And everyone knows the truth sets you free.

One way or another.

"Yes... Yes, I do, Martha." She takes a breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "I love him so much, it hurts."

And Martha Rodgers sees it.

She sees it written all over the younger woman's beautiful face. A poem of affection scribbled on the lift of her lips, a love story painted in the green of her irises.

She loves him.

"Well... then you need to tell him, Dear," she states simply with a twitch of her lips; like it's the most obvious, the most natural thing in the world.

Kate Beckett loves Rick Castle. Rick Castle loves Kate Beckett.

Period.

And for the first time in a long time, a smile breaks free over her face, over her being. Like a caged bird set free to fly.

She will tell him.

And it will set her, him, them free.

[][][]

_"How was it?" Josh asked, clearing the table. _

_She smiled faintly. "Wonderful, thank you."_

_Kate felt uneasy, her gut telling her that something was up. She just couldn't put her finger on it. Before she could further dwell on those thoughts, Josh returned with dessert._

_He smiled, placing the plate with a dark chocolate cake in front her along with a strong cup of coffee. She was a simple girl. Just give her coffee and a delicious cake.. a__nd a fortune cookie? Sure she loved fortune cookies and Chinese food, but it didn't really fit with the whole Italian-vibe he had going on tonight._

_She looked at him, her brow furrowed as she gestured to the cookie. "What's with the fortune cookie?"_

_He only shrugged and smiled coyly. "Felt like it. And you like them, don't you?"_

_She shrugged and started on her delicious, dark, decadent chocolate cake. An orgasmic, death by chocolate cake. They ate in silence for a few minutes. She noticed that he became fidgety and jittery and completely nervous. _

_So unlike him._

_"Thanks, that was divine," she said with a satisfied smile, licking the icing from her finger._

_He returned a soft smile and leaned in to brush a kiss against her mouth, tasting chocolate and coffee. After breaking from the kiss, she turned her attention to the fortune cookie._

_Why did it feel so heavy? But before she could break it open, Josh spoke._

_"Kate?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I want to ask you something."_

_She looked at him, something in her chest clenching tightly at the serious tone of his voice._

_He swallowed visibly before clearing his throat. "Before... I do that, I-I need you to know something."_

_She stared at him and nodded dumbly, encouraging him to continue._

_His gaze shifted away from hers for a brief instance before returning. "I have a decision to make. A decision that could change everything. For us." She wasn't breathing, her heart was hammering against her chest, trying to break free. __"There's an opportunity for me to go to Darfur for a Doctors Without Borders-mission."_

_Oh._

_She cleared her throat, not sure what to think or feel, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelming her. "For how long?"_

_"Uh, six months."_

_Oh._

_When she didn't say anything or react visibly to the news and only kept her head down, Josh grasped her hand tightly, like a desperate man about to fall over the edge of a cliff. "But, I- I won't go." __Her head snapped up at this. "On one condition." When he didn't continue, her brow furrowed._

_Then he slid to the floor on one knee in front of her and she understood. Perfectly. Painfully._

_She froze in shock and horror, her heart climbing out of her throat, trying to make a run for it. _

_"Katherine Beckett-" he was wearing a tentative smile, his eyes so, so hopeful and loving._

_Oh. God. _

_Ohgodohgodohgod! _

_"-will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"_

[][][]

"There you go," Rick says for what feels like the millionth time, smiling that completely fake-but-still-dazzling smile. "Thank you for coming out." The smile automatically drops from his face as he waits for the next fan.

He is tired.

Of six weeks of traveling and book signings and appearances and smiling and pretending to be fine and trying to block out dreams of her.

He is tired.

Of stopping his heart beating for her, of shutting his eyes to keep from searching her out in a crowd, of not hoping that the next breath he takes is hers.

A poke on his shoulder drags him out of his thoughts. Of her. _Again_. It's Paula, looking irritated... as usual. "Rick, can you get a move on, please? We still have to get to that interview. We only have about two hours and this line looks like it's about three hours long. So stop daydreaming and do your job," the feisty agent hisses into his ear before stepping back and glaring at him.

Frick. Frack. Fruck.

"Sure thing, _Boss_," he bites out sarcastically, gritting his teeth. Why he has to do another interview is beyond him. Can't he just go home and not come out... ever again? What does it matter anyway? It's not like there is going to be another Nikki Heat novel now that Rook is dead.

Yeah, he killed Rook by putting a bullet in his heart. A bullet that was meant for Nikki.

Oh, the symbolism.

He looks up and plasters a smile on his face for the overeager fan with the wide-eyed expression of awe. Time to put on the Rick Castle show.

"Oh, this is _sooo_ exciting!" The pretty young blonde girl squeals (literally _squeals_). She doesn't notice him wince at the sound. "I- I'm such a huge fan of your work." He nods, still smiling stiffly.

"So, to who can I make it out to?"

"Umm, Cindy," the girl says shyly, twirling a piece of hair in a pathetic attempt to flirt with him.

_Why do women always twirl their hair when they flirt? Even Kate- _

He closes his eyes for a moment, trying to get rid of the memory of a beautifully smiling Kate, twirling her hair. But he can't get rid of it because the recollection is burned into the slates of his mind. As with every memory of her.

She's there, always there.

"Here you go, Cindy," he says, handing the book to the girl. "Thank you for coming out." The girl giggles and is watching him with wide, doe-like eyes, probably hoping for a wink and a salacious smile.

Too bad, groupie, he's not in the mood.

He continues signing, asking for a name and making polite chit-chat. Unfortunately every fifteenth fan or so always asks him why he killed Rook. His tense answer is always the same - Rook was no longer needed in Nikki's life. It's surprising and unsatisfying, but, hey, it's art imitating life.

Well, life according to Rick Castle.

Another copy (maybe the hundredth today?) slides in front of him with a dark, sexy silhouette etched onto the cover page. Of course, it reminds him of her. Rick sighs mentally and doesn't bother looking up when he asks:

"Who can I make it out to?"

There's a beat of silence before the persons speaks.

"Kate."

_Kate. _

He freezes; shock, hope and excitement warring with one another. It can't be.

_'Please let this be real. Please let this be real. Please let this be real_' the mantra, prayer, exultation silently screams through him. Because if it's not her, then-

He finally looks up, his blue eyes wide and unbelieving. No, it's not a dream or a mirage or a sick joke.

She's here. In the flesh. Looking at him with with those eyes, those dark, mystery-filled eyes. Her hair tumbling in waves over her shoulders, her face soft and caressed with an unfamiliar vulnerability.

He can't breath; he's like a deer caught in the headlights because she's just-

Exquisite.

So, _so_ beautiful that his heart breaks open with an outpouring of adoration. Love overwhelms him, overpowers him, threatens to consume him. It's intense and passionate and dangerous because she's... everything. Every line, every word, every paragraph, every page left in him.

His book of love.

"You can make it out to Kate."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, how was that folks? Are you satisfied with this update or not? This story does have a mind of its own and the characters as well; that might be a reason why I have found it so difficult to update. Forgive me. **

**Please, please, please review and tell me whether I still got it or not for this story. In return I will try to provide you with quicker updates. Hint: reviews tend to feed the muse.**

**The title of this chapter is from that beautiful Adele song "Someone like you." I think it fits nicely with this chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews for the last chapter! I appreciate it.**

**And now on with the show.**

**Disclaimer: they're not mine... unfortunately.**

**(_Italics - _flashbacks from L.A.)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10 - Turning Page<strong>

"_You know what I thought when I first met you?"_

"_Mm?"_

"_That you were a mystery that I was never gonna solve." She looks at him, puzzled and beautiful and vulnerable. And he's completely in love with her - body and soul. "Even now, after spending all this time with you I'm… I'm still amazed at the depths of your strength, your heart… and your hotness." _

_Oh._

_It pours out of him, love letters streaming out of every cell of his body. It's all over his face, in the blue of his eyes, on the curve of his parted mouth. The seal has been broken._

_He's in love with her. And it's as plain as day._

_She smiles at him, affection blooming all over her face. "You're not so bad yourself, Castle." Her eyes confess, reveal what she's not ready to say, to admit, to accept._

_But she feels it. It must be. Everything in her is shouting it out: she's in love with him._

_Oh wow. _

_Maybe, just maybe, they're on the same page. Maybe, just maybe, their happy ending is written in the stars. _

[][][]

"Hey there, can I get your order?" The perky waitress asks, grinning broadly at Rick and Kate.

Kate glances at him and smiles. "Uh, two grande skim lattes, two pumps, sugar-free vanilla."

He doesn't say anything, just watches her. The way her hair curls around her cheeks, the strong line of her jaw, the pink softness of her mouth-

Yeah, she's still stunning. And yeah, he's still hopelessly in love with her. But that doesn't change a thing.

Doesn't change the fact that his heart has a tear in it.

Because of her.

But she's also the only one who can repair it. Him. Make him whole again.

The love of a good woman and all that.

Kate looks at him again, tucking a dark curl behind her ear. "So... h-how are you?"

Hmm. She's nervous. Interesting. "I'm good," Rick simply answers, looking at her, daring her. The ball is in her court, after all.

She shifts in her chair, briefly glances at the chatty couple passing them. Her heart is beating so hard, she can feel the earth moving beneath her feet, her world shifting. She looks at him again and tentatively smiles. "That's... great. I'm good too, you know just busy at work."

This is so awkward.

"How are Ryan and Esposito?" He'll play her game, making small talk, dancing around the subject like they always have. He wonders if she's still with-

No. No, no, no. He's not going there. She wouldn't do that, would she? Come here, give him hope when she's still with-

No.

"Uh, they're fine," Kate responds, smiling slightly, cautiously. "Everyone... is great."

"I'm glad to hear that."

There's another moment of deafening silence. She looks at her fiddling fingers, jittery and unsure. So unlike her. "I- I heard that the book is selling very well."

Rick slumps back in his chair and rubs the back of his neck. Really? She asked him to coffee so that they can discuss his book sales? They might as well be discussing the weather. One step forward, two steps back.

Screw it.

He sighs and she can hear the weariness in his limbs. "Did you ask me for coffee just to talk about book sales, Kate?" He asks softly, his eyes pleading wit her to cut the crap.

She looks away briefly, caught out for using a stalling tactic. Finally, her eyes find his eyes again. "No. I wanted to talk about the dedication," Kate answers simply.

There's a sharp intake of breath on his part due to her directness.

Well, that was clear enough.

He swallows tightly and frowns. His heart is slamming against his rib-cage. "What about it?"

She's not flinching. "Did you mean it?"

_Yes, a million times yes._

He takes a moment before answering, carefully trying to take his heart out of his eyes, off his face. He loves her and its mapped all over him. In the way his eyes embrace every inch of her, the way her name is sung when he speaks, the way the walls around his heart break down every time she smiles at him.

He will always love her.

Rick finally brings his gaze back to hers, dark and questioning. "Of course I meant it, Kate." He leans forward, allowing his eyes to tell her everything. "Did you like it?"

Moment of truth.

Her face softens, the anxiety leaving her posture, as her lips quirk. "I loved it."

_I love you._

[][][]

_"Kate...," he sighs as she nips and sucks on his pulse. This feels so, _so_ right and he's wanted this - her - since the very beginning. Maybe even before time existed. But, somewhere in the haze of heat and lust and love, he knows. He knows that this is wrong. And he doesn't want this to be a one night stand or something that's she's going to regret-_

_Oh. Ahh. _

_But when her hand slides down his exposed chest and stomach and lower, and even deliciously lower, all reason flies out the door. _

_She wants him. Badly. And vice versa. He can't contain or deny himself any longer. Not when her warm, wet mouth is stealing his breath, not when her hands are turning him into a quivering heap of limbs, not when her voice sounds like sex._

_He scoops her up easily without preamble, without warning. She's startled for a moment, wide, dark eyes locking with his before her legs wrap around him in carnal encouragement, consumed by desire and grief and... somewhere, hidden from sight, love. Mouths are fused, bodies humming in sync. They are a cacophony of breathless moans, tongues and hands and hot skin._

_It's fast and violent in its passion. But then-_

_He gently, slowly lowers her down onto the bed, intent on making love to her. She had expected, wanted this to be a quick, rough tumble, but he's turning it into something beautiful, meaningful._

_Lasting._

_But it cannot last. Even if he is worshiping her with the bend of his body, the caress of his lips, the beating of his heart._

_It cannot last._

__They're walking on promises, drunk with dreams of a lifetime of happiness.__

_But morning will come and callous light will drive the dreams away._

[][][]

"I," she starts then stops, unable to properly find the right words. She's not the best-selling author here, he is. "Nobody has ever... done something like that for me. Said something like that... to me." Her throat suddenly burns. Her eyes are bright and beautiful. "Thank you. It's really beautiful, Rick."

He hopes there isn't a but here, a gentle let-down. An 'oh thank you so much for writing your heart into that dedication, but I don't really feel the same'.

They sit in silence for a while, watching people walking by, nursing their coffees. He finally looks at her again, his eyes blue flames. He needs to know.

Now.

"Why are you here, Kate?"

She purses her lips and looks down again. "Maybe a month ago, Josh..." He tenses, carefully trying not to show any reaction. She meets his gaze, something serious in her tone. "Josh asked me to marry him."

His heart plummets painfully, his eyes falling away.

"-But I said no."

At that, he meets her eyes again, his heart back in the game.

"I said no because... because my heart belonged to someone else." _The truth will set you free_. "It belongs to you, Rick. All of it."

_I love you._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Okay, I know it's short, but I think this is the best place to end this chapter. What did you think of the flashbacks? I wanted to bring a little bit of that in. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to let me know. In the next chapter I will continue this conversation, giving you Rick's reaction and will the take the story from there. **

**Thanks for reading and please review! It feeds the muse.**

**The title of this chapter is from the stunning Sleeping at last song, 'Turning page.' **

**I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Apologies for the delay and thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Much appreciated. Now this chapter was challenging, firstly because I had no clue how it would turn out and secondly because I had so many different ideas. In the end, the characters took over. **

**Enjoy!**

**(_Italics_ - flashbacks)**

**(Updated version - I made a few corrections and small changes)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 - My world keeps turning back to you<strong>

"_It belongs to you, Rick. All of it."_

[][][]

He stares at her - this exposed, utterly beautiful, enigma of a woman. She's watching him with dark, expectant eyes and chewing on her lower lip. Her words float down like snowflakes, like leaves in a breeze and find a resting place between. All she wants is for him to reach across and pick them up, nurture them. She wants him to take ownership of her heart, to accept it, to finally claim what is rightfully his.

"Rick!"

But of course, someone interrupts.

Paula stalks over to where they are sitting, phone in hand and heels clacking. She looks annoyed. Maybe even a little angry.

"What the hell are you doing? We have to go," she hisses, pointedly ignoring the detective.

He keeps his eyes steadfast on Kate, his mysterious muse. "Paula, not now."

The feisty agent's face is a gathering storm of pissed off.

"No, Rick. We have to go. _Now_!" She checks her watch. "We're already late." Her phone rings and she walks away to take the call. He watches Kate for a moment, completely torn and unwilling to leave her.

He never wants to leave her again.

Kate breaks eye contact and starts to get up. "Uh... Y-you should go," she says, weaving a hand through her hair, her eyes flittering to his again.

He stands, suddenly feeling desperate because he needs to hear her say it. He needs to hear her say that she loves him too.

"Kate, wait-"

She sees the panic flashing all over his face, shooting straight through his body like a bolt of lightning.

_Oh, Rick_.

What has she done to this man?

Kate has to resist the urge to pull him to her, to kiss all that doubt and hurt and disappointment away. There will be time to do that and so much more, but first they need to talk this out. To tend to the wounds. To rebuild burnt bridges. However, he needs some reassurance _now_.

A smile softens the tight streak of her mouth, paints her autumn eyes with a familiar fondness. "You don't want to be late, Castle and I don't want to be the reason that you disappoint your fans."

His chest eases at the teasing quality of her voice, the memorable banter that usually accompanies it. He returns a smile, the sparkle giving life to the blue hue of his eyes. "We don't want to disappoint the fans."

She laughs softly, dipping her head for a moment. "No, we don't." When she returns her eyes to his, he sees it. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

He sees all of it.

The unmasked love and affection laid bare behind the rubble of denial. How it ebbs and flows in the reflection of her eyes, how it dusts her lips with tender smiles, how it dances in the timbre of her voice.

She loves him.

He is struck with it and for a moment, his tongue cannot roll the words from his mouth.

"Rick, come on. Time to go," Paula calls, an eyebrow raised and a foot tapping in impatience.

The faculty of speech returns and he nods, feeling the smile spreading over his mouth trickle into his voice.

"Yeah... yeah. We'll talk about this later."

About how he loves her. About how she loves him.

About how to get back onto one page.

[][][]

_She's beautiful._

_Absolutely gorgeous dressed in only early morning sunlight, tangled sheets and glorious nudity. _

_He desperately wants to touch her, trace his finger over the hard ridges of her spine and down the slope of her back until it disappears underneath the sheets. His hand hovers over her, deciding rather to gently sweep the mass of dark curls from her back and neck to expose her skin to a delicate brush of his lips. He kisses her once, twice, three times and smiles when she stirs, a quiet, content sigh falling from her lips._

_He wants to whisper in her ear, say all the words that were burned away by the furious craze that drove them the previous evening. He wants to let it tumble out of his mouth into hers. He wants to confess his love, allow the language of his affection to wash over her because everything he needs, resides in her. _

_His future is written all over her._

_It's written in the bend of her knee, the arch of her back, the desperate clutch of her hands, the breathless moans that still echo throughout his body. __He cannot separate their stories any longer, the narrative that makes them two different people. His heart is now engraved onto hers and carved into her body._

_It is now carried inside hers._

_He lets his gaze caress her for a moment longer before slipping out of bed. If he doesn't go now, he might be tempted to keep her in bed for the rest of the day which will not be possible. They are on a case after all. He pulls on the pair of boxers that were flung to the ground in their frenzied moment of abandonment, intent on bringing her breakfast in bed._

_Intent on showing her how good they are together._

_How good their future could be. _

[][][]

Rick is snapped out of his thoughts when the car door slams shut and Paula gets in after talking with the driver. She watches him for a moment, her mouth set in a grim line, and shakes her head.

His brow furrows. "What?"

Paula lifts an eyebrow of disapproval. "Kate Beckett, that's what."

He shrugs, suddenly feeling defensive. "What about her?"

She sighs. "Oh come on, Rick. This is the woman who ripped your heart out and now after a few minutes of talking to her, you look about ready to propose. Is your memory _that_ short?"

He shakes his head, steel in his eyes. "Paula, you don't understand-"

Her eyes flash, her face swiftly clouding in thunder. "-I don't understand? Goddamnit Rick, I was with you the last eight weeks! I saw what that woman did to you." He averts her eyes, clenching his jaw. "Or should I remind you?"

It's the truth and it still hurts.

He raises his eyes to hers again. "Are you talking as my friend or as my agent now?" He asks, rancor dripping from the words.

"Both, you asshole!" She exclaims, throwing her hands in the air, exasperated. "You gave up Nikki Heat for that bitch-"

He immediately sits up, pointing a finger at her. "Don't." The abrupt rage that flares across his expression, stills her. "Don't talk about her like that."

His agent considers him for a moment and sees how his heart pours out of every word, every movement of his mouth, every fiber of his body.

It's breathtaking.

She sighs and rubs her forehead, dropping her eyes from his blazing shades of blue. "You still love her, don't you?"

Rick sits back and the anger lining his body leaks out of him. "Yeah. Yes, I do." He looks at her for a moment. "You already knew that, Paula."

She shifts her gaze to the window. "Yeah. But I don't understand why, Rick." She looks back at him and shakes her head lightly. "How could you still love her so much after what happened between you two?"

He swallows, his throat working past the sudden lump. "It's not something I can stop..." His eyes are burning with sincerity. "I would do anything for her."

And Paula Haas knows he would.

She nods slowly. "Just promise me one thing. Promise me you'll be careful about this."

He sighs and drops his head into a hand, scrubbing it over his face. "Paula-"

She holds up a hand. "Just... don't go walking through fire for this woman just yet, okay?"

His looks at her again, mouth twitching in amusement and fondness. "Are you talking as my friend or my agent now?"

[][][]

_She feels the soft brush of his lips on her skin once, twice, three times and also the smile against the back of her neck. It feels nice, like candyfloss. Soft and sweet and... lovely._

_Mmm. Candyfloss-kisses._

_Kate sighs, still under the spell of hazy sleep and fantasies. Of him. Of them. In her dreams, Royce isn't dead and she doesn't have someone waiting at home. It's just him and her on a tropical island, wearing next to nothing, rubbing oil-_

_The bed shifts, stirring her into consciousness. Her eyes flutter against the invading light and she slowly blinks them open, a little confused and disorientated. This doesn't look like the room-_

_Wait. Wait a minute. _

_She's naked. The sheets are tangled. _Her clothes are strewn all over the floor and furniture. _Castle's shirt is lying-_

_Oh, shit. _

_Her eyes snap open, the memories rushing back with startling clarity. It hits her like ice water, like the winter's cold. __She remembers the way it had started, there on the couch with him telling her that she was a mystery - a mystery he would never solve - and that he was amazed by her. He had revealed his heart with those few words, exposed his soul, told her how completely in love he is with her. The words had swirled around and embraced her, draining all of the heartache and grief and sadness out of her body._

_She remembers how she coyly ducked her head, smiled and returned the compliment. How their eyes locked, the simmering heat that flowed between them. She remembers how the unmasked affection in his gaze had drawn her in, how she suddenly let herself fall into a moment of abandonment. Her kiss had surprised him at first, but soon he was kissing her back, drinking her in, taking from her. And soon, they ended up dragging and pulling and consuming towards the nearest bedroom._

_Kate closes her eyes for a moment, a hand over her face, heart hammering as she considers the events of the previous evening:_

_She slept with Richard Castle a__nd it was fantastic._

[][][]

"I went to see him."

Lanie stops mid-sentence and looks up from her report, an eyebrow raised. "Hey, nice to see you too." She pushes her chair back and gets up. "Who did you go and see?"

She's playing dumb. Of course she is. It's Lanie Parish - she wants details.

Kate sighs and props herself against a table. "Castle. I went to see Castle."

The ME raises both her eyebrows. "Oh, really? When?"

About damn time.

Kate drops her gaze. "This morning at his book signing. Just before I came here actually."

Oh.

Oh, crap. It must have gone south because why was she here and not screwing Richard Castle's brains out?

Again.

"So, uh, how did it go?" Lanie ventures cautiously, warily because when it comes to emotions and feelings and girly things, Kate Beckett plays it close to the vest.

The detective looks up again. "Fine... I think."

Huh?

Lanie frowns. "You think? What the hell does that mean?"

Kate is inspecting her hands intently. "Well, we sort of didn't have time to finish the conversation." At Lanie's confused expression, she continues. "We went for coffee, but were interrupted by his agent."

"Oh."

There is a beat of silence.

"I basically told him that I was in love with him," Kate blurts out suddenly, her heart beating erratically again. She told Richard freakin' Castle that she was in love with him.

Holy crap.

Lanie's eyes snap up to hers. "You _what_?"

Kate returns a close-lipped smile and shrugs, a faint blush shading her cheeks. "Yeah. I told him that my heart kinda... belongs to him," she says, biting her lower lip.

There are a few seconds of silence before the ME squeals like a fangirl, jumps up and pulls Kate into a hug, startling the detective into hugging back.

"Seriously? Damn girl, I'm so proud of you. It took you long enough!"

Kate chuckles lightly. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

Lanie looks at eagerly, hoping for details. "_So_? What did he say?"

"Well, that's kinda where our conversation ended. He didn't get the chance to respond because his agent interrupted us."

Damn. Damn it to hell.

"I hate his agent," Lanie mutters, slumping down next to her friend; a fierce frown lining her forehead.

Kate laughs lightly, amusement spilling into the sound. "You and me both."

The two women fall into silence for a moment, lost in thought before the petite ME asks:

"So you two are still going to talk, right? I mean this isn't... over?" Lanie is watching her with expectant, hopeful eyes.

Such a shipper.

"No, no definitely not. We're still going to talk this out. We _need_ to talk about what happened and about where to go from here." Kate glances at her friend, a smile toying with her mouth. "At least we have his mother's blessing."

[][][]

_'It's clear that you and Castle have something real.'_

__Royce's words ring in her head, whirling around on a roller coaster of emotions. She doesn't want to look at him, she doesn't want to talk to him. She can feel him watching her, expectant and hopeful. She has nothing to offer him, except the memory of those few hours of shared heat and the breathless tangling of their bodies. She cannot offer him more than that. Not now. Not when she has to bury her training officer and the first man she truly fell in love with. Not when she has someone waiting at home for, someone who gave up his dream to chase her. Not when she doesn't know what is up or down. She's a mess and he deserves more than that. __

__'And you're fighting it.'__

__He doesn't say anything. He sits in his seat, smiles at the attractive flight attendant and makes polite small talk with the businessman across the aisle. She is ignoring him, shutting him out, rebuilding that wall in her heart that he managed to dismantle last night. __

__It hurts like a sonofabitch. __

__He desperately wants to hold her hand, kiss her cheek, make a lewd joke about her joining him for a little mid-flight delight. He doesn't though. He sees this for what it is. Kate Beckett being Kate Beckett. They kiss, they almost die frozen in each other's arms, but they never talk about it. __

__This is going to be no different. __

__Rick glances at her again, hoping to catch her eye, hoping for something - anything - but she has her head turned away from him, staring out of the window. His chest is tight, his heartbeat tripping as he takes her in. How the sunlight paints her graceful features in shadows, accentuating the sharp edges of her cheekbones; how the soft curls tumble over her shoulders in glossy waves; how her skin gleams in the dusk light, smooth and silky and warm to the touch. But he won't reach out to touch her, feel her thrum with life underneath the exploration of his fingers. Instead, he turns away from her, taking his offered heart back.__

__Apparently, she doesn't want it.__

_'But trust me, putting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we're alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder: If only.'_

_She watches the rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps, the sharp angles of his profile, the large, solid landscape of his body while Royce's words echo throughout her mind:_

_If only._

_If only._

_If only._

[][][]

He's not expecting anyone to be waiting when he walks into his home, quietly shutting the door and tiredly pealing off his coat. He pulls out his phone, walking to the living room, and considers calling Kate. But it's already past eleven (he had another meet-and-greet to do after the TV interview) and she's probably asleep and he doesn't know exactly what to-

"Hey, Dad."

Rick's head snaps up, startled by the sudden and soft intrusion of his daughter's voice. She peers at him over the edge of the couch, an unfamiliar vulnerability etched onto her young, lovely features.

"Hey, Pumpkin. What are you doing up?" He asks, sitting down next to her.

"Reading." She lifts a worn copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in answer.

He quirked an eyebrow, his mouth curving. "Mmm. A tragic love story filled with betrayal and heartbreak and scandal. It's a little dark and depressing, don't you think?"

Alexis shrugs, her eyes on the book in her hands. "Maybe. It's no _Pride and Prejudice_, but at least Hareton and Cathy get their happily ever after, right?" Her tone drips with sarcasm, with a degree of disillusionment that her father doesn't like to hear. At all.

Rick frowns at his daughter, his little girl. Alexis Castle is not known for cynicism. It doesn't suit her. She fervently and beautifully believes in happily ever afters and fate and true love and that two completely different, random people could be destined to spend the rest of their lives together.

"Alexis, sweetheart-"

"-Kate was here today," she interrupts quietly, rubbing a finger over the spine of the book, not meeting her father's eyes.

He sucks in a breath. She was here? Well, that would explain his daughter's melancholy mood. Her affection for the dark-haired detective has waned considerably over the last couple of months.

"Oh," he responds, weaving a hand through his hair. "Did... did you talk to her?"

He can see her jaw work, the tension flexing in her shoulders. She's too young for this. "Yes."

He nods slowly and purses his lips. To say Alexis was feeling some hostility towards Kate Beckett would be an understatement. He never wanted her to find out what had happened between him and the beautiful detective, but his impulsive decision to go on a book tour and stop shadowing Beckett and basically to kill off the Nikki Heat-series had clued her in. Not to mention the candid discussion (read: heated argument) she overheard that he had with his mother about the situation with Kate.

"Okay," he says slowly because he cannot think of any other response. He is still watching his daughter closely and she is still avoiding his eyes.

She lets out a shaky breath and sniffles, making him instinctively pull her closer. What the hell happened between his daughter and the woman he loves?

"Alexis, what happened?"

There's a moment of silence. "S-she came here to see you, Dad. And when she saw it was me, she tried to explain what had happened between you two. What she did." Bitterness laces her words, the sound wrapped up in sorrow. She swallows past the burning lump in her throat and tries to see past the watery mass in her eyes.

"I- I told her to basically leave us alone. Not to call or to come here again."

Oh, Alexis.

Rick exhales and presses the heel of his hand into his eye, his shoulders sagging. "Pumpkin, I'm sorry-"

"You saw her too, didn't you?" Her voice is a whisper, her tone like a shadow. "I overheard Grams telling her where you were."

He looks up at her again and purses his lips, waiting a moment before answering. "Yes. Yes, I did."

"And?"

"Well, we talked and it... went well, but we didn't get a chance to finish. So, we'll probably meet again sometime to, you know, discuss everything."

Alexis nods slowly, her eyes still on her fidgeting hands. "So, what happens after that, Dad?" She lifts her still wet eyes to his. "You're going to go back to following her around like some lovesick puppy?"

Jeez, not pulling any punches.

His heart is aching for her because she was there when he fell apart, when he spiraled into the depths of depression, when he couldn't be her father. "I don't know what is going to happen, Alexis. I don't know how this story ends or how it will go between us. But I do know that I love her very much and that she loves me too." He pauses. "She's the one."

They are quiet for a while.

"Dad, are you sure? Are you sure about Kate?" She asks, questions in her eyes and the urge to protect him colouring every word. "If you are and if she makes you happy, then I'll support it. I'll support you," she concludes softly, her eyes boring into his.

He brushes a hand through her hair and hugs her closer. He watches his daughter for a while - this beautiful, intelligent, grown-up young woman. One of the few things he has done right.

His mouth lifts into a tender smile, his eyes tinted with affection. "Yes, sweetheart, I'm sure."

_Because I cannot live without my life_.

[][][]

_She dreams about him that night. _It might be Josh's arms around her, it might be his breath skirting over her cheek, it might be his large hand spread over her skin, but it's Richard Castle she dreams about. How his hands ignited her into a blazing inferno; how his mouth painted promises on the canvas of her body; how his eyes stroked her with adoration. __

__How he loved her.__

__They didn't talk about it when they left the hotel. They didn't talk about it when they boarded the plane. They didn't talk about it throughout the flight. They didn't talk about it when they landed. They didn't say anything when they parted ways. It's as if nothing happened. They went back to just being Castle and Beckett, writer and muse. Rick back to his corner of ___acquiescence ___and Kate back to her corner of denial.__

_But under the cover of darkness - hidden from view - and in the shadowy corners of her heart, the truth slowly reveals itself, illuminating her dreams with promises of happiness: __Kate Beckett is in love with her partner._

[][][]

When Kate opens the door at 7am on Sunday morning, Richard Castle is standing in front of her with coffee, bear claws and a sparkling smile.

"Castle, hi!" She cannot help but smile back, her whole face coming to life.

"Morning, Detective," he greets, brushing past her.

She shuts the door and follows him towards the kitchen, a little taken aback and thrilled by his presence. Her heart is pounding, the rhythm erratic and faltering. "W-what are you doing here?" She asks, weaving hand through her hair, realising belatedly that she's still in her pajamas.

He turns back and looks at her, suddenly serious. "Get dressed. We're going for a walk." He pauses for a moment and regards her carefully. "There are a few things we need to discuss."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: *Scratches head* Eh, this turned out completely different than what I had in my head. The characters basically took over. So, yeah. I hope it was okay. I didn't want them to have _that _discussion in the setting that they were in. And I really wanted some of the other characters to act as soundboards for Rick and Kate. In the next chapter, we will eventually have Rick and Kate talk about everything that has happened between them. So, stay tuned.**

**Thanks for reading and please review. I would love to hear your thoughts.**

**I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes. I will correct them if I see any.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Apologies for the long wait - the muse took a leave of absence for a while. I also had to get the scene right in my head before I could start writing it and that took me a while. Anyway, I hope ya'll enjoy it. Thank you once again for all the wonderful reviews and your patience!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, never will. Be still my heart. . .**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12 - I and Love and You<strong>

The dew shimmers in the early-morning sunlight, moistening the green grass of Central Park with millions of diamond drops. It's still early - barely past 7 - on a Sunday morning. The air is cool and crisp, the sky a pale blue. They walk silently beside each other, coffee cups in hand, minds racing to find the right words, the perfect words. Those bridge-building words that will lead them back to a middle ground, to a fresh starting place.

Onto the same page.

Kate chews on her lip and looks up from the sparkling dew drops and glances at her (friend? lover?) partner. He's staring off into space, a deep line creasing his forehead, his eyes solemn and his mouth set in a grim line.

He's got something on his mind, but is still trying to select the right words from his vocabulary, finding the right tone to roll it from his tongue. He wants it to be poetry, a beautiful prose that would wrap around her heart and never let go. His love for her. But words seem to fail him when it matters. He doesn't have a poem or an earth-shattering speech; only three words. He wants to say them, set them free, give his heart wings.

But fear keeps reigning him in. That nagging doubt that she doesn't-

"I guess we have a lot to talk about," Kate says quietly, her voice low and soft. He imagines this is what she would sound like in the mornings while whispering, smiling, into his ear after just waking up, a hand brushing tenderly through his hair. _'What she didn't do that morning'_ the bitter thought races through his mind.

He shakes it off and turns to look at her. "Uh, yeah," he says with a tight, lopsided smile. "I guess we do."

Kate spots a bench a few feet away and makes her way over to it, clutching the cup closer to her chest, her heart rate picking up at what lies ahead. Rick follows her, watching the way the breeze lifts a strand of hair away from her cheek and wisps it over her shoulder.

So beautiful.

They sit in silence for a few moments, watching as a lone jogger passes them on her morning run and an elderly man walks past them with a small Jack Russel on a leash. They seem like a couple just enjoying the morning, an early morning date after waking up next to each other. But they're not there yet; they're haven't reached their destination yet.

Kate takes a breath, her eyes on her fingers around the cup of coffee. "I'm sorry," she rasps, grief and sorrow choking the words out of her mouth. It sounds like ashes, her apology. It feels too insignificant, tastes sour on her tongue. But she has to get them out; she has to free herself from the crushing weight of missed opportunities and past mistakes.

Her words need to mend his heart.

Rick looks at her, his brow furrowing in surprise. He didn't expect her to get right to it, to set things in motion. Before he can say anything in return, she lifts wet, gleaming eyes to his. She has to swallow past the burning sensation in her throat and she has to blink away the sudden, hot tears threatening to fall.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Rick."

He sucks in a breath, his chest suddenly feeling tight. He wants to reach out to her, wrap his hand around hers. He doesn't though because she _has_ hurt him, she did break his heart.

But she is also the only one who can mend it.

"Kate-"

"No," she interrupts, lifting a hand to stop him. "J-just hear me out. Please." Her voice is soft, her tone awash in vulnerability. She is without her armor, her wall of denial. It is no longer a fortress to which she retreats, but a ruin; something that he conquered a long time ago. He is in her heart; his love carved on the pages of her life and he is never leaving because she is never letting him go again.

Kate tears her gaze away from his again, fixing it onto her fiddling fingers. He waits patiently for her to continue, watching her closely like always - the way her mouth contracts into a tight, tense line; the deep crease in her forehead; the dark, long lashes brushing rapidly against her skin; the movement of the muscle along her sculpted jaw.

He has to stop his hand from lifting up and caressing that tense jaw muscle. He has to stop himself from leaning in and pressing a kiss to the beauty mark on her cheek. He has to stop himself from wanting, hoping for too much.

Her eyes lift up, her gaze focused on the horizon. "I've made many mistakes, Castle," she says quietly, her eyes dancing back to his bright and brilliantly blue orbs. "And I have many regrets, but what I did. . ." She has to stop, take a breath, avert his all-seeing eyes and swallow past the overwhelming wave of emotion that threatens to choke the courage out of her. "-what I did to you. . ." Her eyes lock with his again; no walls are discernable, no armor visible anymore, nothing to protect her heart or deny his affection. ". . .was the worst mistake I have ever made."

Rick removes his eyes from hers and tries to shift away, but suddenly she grabs his hand, her touch almost desperate. Her eyes begging, praying, pleading. Sparkling and dark and just. . . intensely beautiful.

"I'm so sorry for pushing you away. For throwing. . . everything back in your face," she says, tears threatening to fall. She purses her lips and her brow furrows; her eyes never leaving his. "I was a coward. I let you go, I let you walk away. I don't deserve-"

"You're here now," he interrupts, placing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him. Rick presses his mouth against her temple, feeling his throat burn. "In then end, that's all that matters to me. That's all that counts," he says gruffly. He debates whether to say it, but the need to know, the desperate thirst for certainty pushes the words out of his mouth.

"J-just tell me you feel the same. Just tell me that you love me too, Kate. Please."

She is very still against him and he cannot see her face. He clutches her closer, closing his eyes, holding his breath. Deep down he knows the truth; he sees it as clear as day because it is carved on every part of her face, her being, her soul. Over and over again, like a mantra.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Kate sits back to meet his gaze, her lips quirking into that secretive, almost shy smile that he adores so much. She raises a hand and brushes it through his hair, her eyes an ocean of calm, swimming in affection. His own mouth slowly curves into a closed-lip smile and allows hope to bloom in his heart.

"Yes," she answers simply in a murmur. "Isn't it obvious?"

He smiles softly, tenderly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I need to hear you say it."

Her mouth lifts again, trying to contain all the joy, all the fullness pouring out of her heart. Kate leans in and paints his smiling mouth with a delicate kiss, a promise of things to come.

"I love you." She kisses him again, ghosting her mouth over his cheek and up to his ear.

"I love you." Her lips like pilgrims against his jaw, traveling towards their final destination.

"I love you," she breathes against his lips again, invading him, a soft conquering with her pilgrim lips. He slides his mouth open under hers and latches onto her lower lip, lightly scraping it with his teeth before darting his tongue out to soothe the tender flesh. Kate moans quietly and shifts closer to him, a hand against the back of his neck, her tongue slipping past his lips and into his mouth; a hot, wet, delicious sanctuary. He winds an arm around her waist while a hand drifts up to cup her jaw. The kiss is a languid, intimate exploration that only two lovers could share.

A reunion, a healing, a restoration.

They are startled apart by the sudden laughter of nearby children. They're both smiling, beaming with happiness, their foreheads touching and their breathing shallow. Kate lets out a soft, light laugh sprinkled with joy and drops her head to his shoulder. Rick's smile widens as he presses one, two kisses against the crown of her head and hugs her closer. She lifts her head again to meet his eyes, both still smiling like lovestruck idiots.

"Wow," he exhales.

"Wow," she agrees.

"We just made out like two horny teenagers on a park bench for everyone to see," he says. "You know that right?"

Kate laughs, a full, rich, free sound that lets her beauty soar. He cannot help but lean in to kiss that smiling, joyful, utterly gorgeous woman.

"So what now, Castle?" She watches him from beneath her lashes, her lower lip (that he had in his mouth a few moments ago) lodged in between her teeth. There is a teasing, playful glint in her eyes.

"Now, my dear detective, we make this an unforgettable journey," he replies, suddenly standing and holding out a hand to her. "Starting with bear claws and coffee." She smiles and wraps her hand around his, lacing their fingers.

Kate grins at him, her eyes laughing. "Jeez, Castle, a walk in the park, making out like teenagers and now breakfast? Some people would call this a date."

He leers at her, bumping her hip with his, their tangled hands lodged between their bodies. He ducks his head, his mouth next to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. Kate swallows, feels her heart rate jumping.

"Oh, Kate, when I take you out on a date, you'd know it." He presses a kiss below her ear. "And it wouldn't include _just_ making out like horny teenagers."

"Mm, really?" Kate murmurs, turning her head to face him, her eyes darting to his parted mouth.

His smile becomes predatory, his eyes darkening slightly. "You have no idea."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, this was probably the lightest chapter of this story so far. Now, I need your opinion - should I end it here and just write an epilogue? Or should I continue with this story? I have an idea for a sequel (involving an AU-retelling of the shooting and the secrets), but it's gonna be another angsty one. **

**Please review and tell me what you think. Thank you for all the reviews already.**

**Title of the chapter - an Avett Brothers' song, "I and Love and You."**


	13. Epilogue

**A/N: Well folks, after deliberating with my muse, I have decided to end this story with this chapter. But, fear not, I do definitely plan a sequel as you will see in this epilogue. Thank you to everyone who alerted, reviewed and favoured this story. I hope this is satisfactory and that you'll enjoy this last chapter of 'An Odyssey to Us'. **

**(Btw, can I please get a round of applause for finishing my first story!)**

**Disclaimer: Andrew Marlowe is their creator and ruler. We all bow down to his genius.**

**Just take note: there is a three month time-jump from the previous chapter.**

**(Updated version - spotted a few errors).**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13 - I'm Yours<strong>

Positive. Two lines. A plus sign.

Uh. Whoa. Wow. Oh, wow.

_Pregnant._

(So much for birth control.)

It's six o'clock in the morning and Kate is staring at the three sticks on the bathroom counter, feeling a little dazed and confused, chewing on her thumb nail while her heart beats erratically. She's friggin pregnant. With Richard Castle's baby. Barely three months into their relationship. She's in between scared shitless and completely overwhelmed by a tidal wave of irrational happiness.

Kate glances down to her still-flat stomach and tenderly, gingerly places a hand over it. She can envision a girl with dark hair and laughing blue eyes, picture a little boy who is the spitting image of his father. As the images run through her head, the corners of her mouth lift slowly and slide open into a beaming smile; her eyes sparkling with joy and affection.

A baby.

They were going to have a baby.

[][][]

Rick drifts into consciousness, the stark light of the morning hitting his closed eyes. He sighs heavily and rolls onto his side, stretching an arm out to wrap around his favourite detective. But instead of finding a beautiful, semi-naked woman in his bed, he hits cold sheets. He groans in disapproval and slowly opens his eyes, squinting against the invading light. He lifts his head to see the pulled back covers and spots the alarm clock on her bedside table (she might still be living on her own, but the right side is her side of the bed). It reads 6:22. Rick grunts and lets his head fall back onto the pillow.

Why is she always up so early?

That's only one of the many things they differ on - she's a morning person, he's a night person; she likes poached eggs, he likes scrambled eggs; she likes cooking alone, he likes company in the kitchen; she likes baths (for various reasons), he likes showers (for various reasons); she likes it rough, quick and dirty, he likes it slow, teasing and thorough. They're Yin and Yang. Writer and muse. Friends and lovers.

A perfect fit.

He hears water run in the bathroom and sits up, brow furrowing. He really doesn't hope she's still sick. Yesterday she became sick after eating Chinese at the precinct. Which has never happened before, but there must have been something wrong with her Chow Mein. Although no one else got sick. Before he can get out of bed, the door opens and Kate steps out, a hand to her smiling mouth. There's something soft and gentle etched onto her features, something joyful reflecting in the shine of her irises.

"Hey," Rick says softly, getting out of bed.

Kate's head snaps up, her eyes meeting his as he walks towards her. She quickly schools her features to hide the outpouring of rampant joy, but smiles broadly at her lover.

(And now the father of her unborn child too.)

"Morning. I'm glad to see you decided to join the land of the living," she teases, weaving her arms around his shoulders and locking her hands behind his neck.

"If this is what the land of the living require, I want to revoke my citizenship."

She laughs softly and shakes her head. He returns a smile, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. His eyes, though, still watch her warily.

"You okay?" He asks, concern and care wrap around the ebb and flow of his voice.

Her brow furrows. "Yeah. Why?"

Shit. Does he know?

Rick shrugs. "Just... you were sick the other day after eating that Chinese. I thought that maybe you were still feeling the remnants of that," he answers, his forehead creased, his eyes bathed in gentle protectiveness.

Oh, sweet man.

She grins and leans up to brush a quick kiss against the corner of his mouth. "No, I'm fine, Rick. Really, I promise."

He still seems skeptical, so she decides to convince him otherwise. Kate sucks her lower lip into her mouth, teasing it with the bite of her teeth and she stands on tip-toes to breathe into her lover's ear.

"Why don't you join me in the shower and I'll show you how fine I am."

He doesn't need anymore convincing.

[][][]

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you to see Lockwood?" Rick asks for maybe the tenth time in the space of fifteen minutes.

Kate, with her back to him, rolls her eyes while buttering her toast. "Yes, Castle, I'm sure," she answers on a sigh before turning around to meet his worried gaze. Her features soften. "You know I need to do this on my own."

He lets out a breath and rubs a hand over his face. "You don't _have_ to, Kate. You choose to do this alone," he responds quietly, getting up from his seat at the kitchen counter. Things were going so well this morning - they shared a hot, delicious shower and had breakfast together, but now there is this strange, irritating tension that threatens to leave a sour taste in their mouths.

She doesn't want to go their separate ways with dampened spirits. There was just too much to be happy about, too much hope painting the dark corners of her heart with light to let him walk out the door feeling shut out.

"Rick, wait."

He sighs and turns around. "What?"

She desperately wants to tell him, desperately wants to share the good news just to see how the shadows will lift from his face, how the veiled hurt would evaporate from his eyes.

He'd be over the moon. But now is not the time to break the news to him that he was going to be a father again.

"I love you," the words tumble from her mouth, her whole face flooded with adoration, her body alight with the love - the life - they've created. "I love you too much to drag you into this, to drag you into _my_ fight."

She can see the tension drain out of him, out of the line of his broad shoulders. However, she can also discern the stubborn protectiveness that takes up residence in his eyes and throughout his posture. He wants to protect her, shield her and she loves him even more for it.

But this is something that no one can shelter her from.

"Kate-"

She steps forward, placing a hand on his cheek. "Love, just let me do this. I promise this is the last time I'll go alone."

He watches her for a moment, his bright blue eyes caressing her features; he's clearly still not pleased with the situation. "Okay, okay." He nods in acquiescence.

"Thank you," she replies, squeezing his neck and bringing him down to her for a kiss; soft and delicate like a blooming flower.

When they break apart, his forehead creases slightly and the corners of his mouth curve into a delighted smile. "Love, huh? Does that mean I get to call you Snookums? Or how about sweet cheeks?"

She smiles widely. "Shut up," Kate murmurs, before invading his mouth again, her tongue darting out to briefly dance with his in the languid, heated tango of their mouths. When he groans and tightens the grip on her waist, she dislodges herself from him and steps away.

"Will I see you at the precinct later?" She asks, grabbing her coat and tucking it on.

He shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe. I have to go and see some people at Black Pawn. The Derrick Storm graphic novel-"

"-is getting launched today," she finishes, trying to find her car keys in her purse. "Yeah, you told me. Remember?" When she looks up again, he's regarding her with bright, blue, reverent eyes.

"What?"

He shakes his head and curls a hand around her elbow. "Nothing. . . I just love you."

Kate gives him a beaming smile. "Ditto," she says before giving him one more kiss. "Oh and by the way, dinner at my place tonight. I'm cooking."

He laughs because a home-cooked meal at her place is a rare thing. "What's the occasion?"

She can't help the giddiness that suddenly overwhelms her, the ecstasy that sings in her veins.

Because-

"It's a surprise, Castle."

They're having a baby.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Now, I know what a lot of you are thinking - 'not another pregnancy fic!'. But I assure you, this is not the direction I plan on taking the sequel in. Remember I promised an AU-retelling of the shooting and their secrets? Well, this should give you a taste of what that potentially might be. (Don't ask me when I'm gonna start on the sequel.)**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and the support this story got. You guys are the best! Please for the last time, review and tell me what you think.**


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